


Last Christmas

by Thankyoumissvanjie (caringis_notanadvantage)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, Ficmas, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caringis_notanadvantage/pseuds/Thankyoumissvanjie
Summary: Brooke hated december. She hated all the Christmas decorations, the way everything was filled with lights, big red hearts and mushy Santas.Had hated it ever since she was old enough to understand that Santa was a myth, Christmas food was overrated, and this year…She hated it because it reminded her of how empty her bed was, how there was only a single cup of coffee to make in the morning...This year, it was just her.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 240
Kudos: 190





	1. Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to me trying to write a single contained story over 24 chapters using ficmas prompts. 
> 
> Let's see if I manage. If nothing else I think we'll have fun. 
> 
> I promise you fluff, angst, smut and a happy ending. 
> 
> Enjoy! <3<3

**_1st of December 2019 - New York City, NY_ **

Brooke hated December. She hated all the Christmas decorations, the way everything was filled with lights, big red hearts and mushy Santas. 

_Hated it._

Had hated it ever since she was old enough to understand that Santa was a myth, Christmas food was overrated, and this year…

She hated it because it reminded her of how empty her bed was, how there was only a single cup of coffee to make in the morning, that there wasn’t a split down the middle of the closet, nor two pairs of shoes beside the door. 

_It was just her._

Christmas sucked. 

Huddling deeper inside her long, black trench coat, her deep red scarf so big and so tight that she seemed to be lost beneath it, Brooke tried to keep warm in the early New York morning chill. 

Wearing that scarf was a special type of self-torture, the memory of how it had been draped around her neck by her.

_“Baby, can’t have that pretty ballerina neck all exposed - how you gonna be reaching that Prima life if you be in bed with a 103 fever, huh?”_

Brooke huddled deeper into the soft wool around her neck, trying to shake off the memory, while also wanting to dive into it. 

The early morning bustling in New York City was surrounding her all around. No one cared that it was Sunday morning and that they were supposed to be sleeping. 

Brooke wished that she could sleep in. Yearned for the comfort of her large - and empty - bed back at her studio. 

She didn’t have a choice. Worked called. 

There was a Sugar Plum Fairy that needed to dance her way across the stage of the New York City Ballet today - twice. 

_Fucking matinees._

It was funny how she had worked so hard to reach Prima. It had been her goal, but by god, they had both wanted it for her. 

Yet, Brooke had been all alone to celebrate it, when she had finally reached that stepping stone, Vanessa long gone. Her apartment half-empty, fully painful, and completely lonely. 

It had made the victory taste bitter, the joy blackening around the edges. 

* * *

**_2nd of March, 2012 - New York City, NY_ **

_Vanjie was dying. Everything inside of her was a mumble jumble of frayed nerves and too much energy._

_What the fuck was she doing here? Looking around at all the tall, thin and pasty as snow girls all around her, she felt as if she had transported herself into a different reality._

_One where she wasn’t just a little hoodrat that liked to dance a bit but was actually an accomplished dancer._

_She had clocked, locked and noticed the way them bitches kept on looking her up and down, trying to gauge if her Latina ass was there as a joke._

_Ain’t no way Vanjie would ever wear a black leotard and pink leggins if her ass didn’t mean it._

_Not that they would know._

_Silky had made her apply for Julliard. Vanjie had done it mostly as a joke, mostly because she knew that she would never get in._

_Knew that they would look at her name, realise that it wasn’t Russian or American, and then give her a hard pass._

_At least, that was what she thought would happen._

_And yet, there she was. Standing in a massive ballet studio, surrounded by too many hopeful and cut-throat looking bitches, ready to see if they had moved on from the first class._

_Vanjie was pretty sure that she was out._

_Ballet was not her thing. Sure, she knew her pliés from her grand allegros. But she was more of a modern type of girl._

_Give her fewer rules, more fluidity, and she was your hoe._

_Now it was just a waiting game. She knew that she wouldn’t advance, had noticed how good some of the others were._

_“Hey, you don’t have to look that scared,” a voice to her left made Vanjie turn her head, coming face to face with a tall, blonde, and ridiculously beautiful girl. She wasn’t in dance clothes like the rest of them, instead, she was in a fancy pantsuit that made her look older than she probably was._

_“What you talking ‘bout, Mary?” What was this beauty of the room on about? Vanjie’s confusion made the girl smile softly._

_Vanjie instantly wanted to do anything to make that happen again. The way those big and blue eyes lit up was a magical sight to behold._

_She was so very gay._

_“Your face. It’s worried.” The pointed look made Vanjie realise that her jaw was tense, her shoulders all the way up to her ears, while her pulse was hammering away._

_“Yeah, wouldn’t you be?” Vanjie felt the gaze of everyone around, the way that they were looking this girl up and down._

_The death glares they were all sending probably meant something, but Vanjie was too nervous about the audition to care about anything else._

_“Probably. But your energy in there was something else.” Vanjie couldn’t seem to clock if that was a good or bad thing._

_Energy could mean anything._

_“We talking a good or bad vibe, though?” she was wringing her hands, moving them about to keep the nervous energy at bay, while looking into those pretty eyes, feeling herself drown in them like they were the sea._

_“You’ll see,” the loop-sided smile and tiny wink made Vanjie’s knees feel weak for the first time in years. Before she had a chance to ask about anything else, the girl left._

_Leaving Vanjie a breathless mess, trying to figure out who that girl was and when, if ever, she would be able to see her again._

_All of that was forgotten ten minutes later, when she saw her name printed in black on a perfect white paper, saying that she had moved on to the next part of the audition._

_Julliard, bring it the fuck on._

* * *

**_1st of December 2019, Los Angeles, CA_ **

The warm breeze and glaring sun made you forget that it was December. Wearing shorts during winter was still weird to Vanjie after all those years in New York where the weather was bitchier than a hungry Silky. 

She sometimes missed it. Missed the excuses for hot cocoa, the layers of clothing that felt like a hug. Missed the cuddles and the way Brooke’s skin would break into goosebumps when-

“Ain’t you ‘sposed to be getting ready?” Silky’s voice thankfully interrupted her before her mind wandered any further. 

The path it was on too dangerous.

Vanjie was lounging at Silky’s apartment, having crashed there for over a week, having to get through the gruelling rehearsal before the tour started next week. 

Her body was tired, having gone over and over the same moves, the same pieces of choreography. 

She even dreamt to the beat of an eight count. 

“It’s Sunday, boo. I don’t be doing any work on the day of our Lord,” even as she said it, she could taste the lie on her lips. She was already dressed in a sports bra, crop hoodie and booty shorts. 

She was ready. 

“So you ain’t going to the studio in ten?” Trust Silky, to have memorised her schedule, her best friend having a tendency to go "team mom", even if she was mostly shit at it. 

Bless her lil soul. 

“More like 15, hoe. My boy David can wait a bit,” Vanjie knew that as long as she bribed her dance partner with Starbucks, he would forgive her everything. 

Vanjie just wanted to have a moment of peace, knowing that it wouldn’t be possible now that Silky had arrived, her larger than life personality louder than a foghorn. 

“When is RiRi taking this shit on the road?” Vanjie couldn’t keep the smile off her lips. Even if she had known for a while now that she was going on tour with the queen of everything, Rihanna, it still seemed unreal. 

Her. Vanessa Mateo. A backup dancer for Rihanna. 

_What the shit was even her life?_

“Next week, we be doing some shows in NYC to kick it all off.” The excitement in Vanjie’s voice was in part because she loved everything about New York. 

It had been her home for almost 6 years. 

New York was the reason that she was where she was today. 

“Huh.” Silky sat down next to her on the couch, her face doing that “I ain’t gon say shit, but I got thoughts and feels”. A face that usually came right before she ended up spilling the beans. 

“What?” The little waggle from Silky left eyebrow explained nothing. “Miss Silk, what’s with that face?” Vanjie had an idea, but she wanted Silky to say it out loud. 

Silky seemed to almost vibrate with all the words she kept inside. Her eyes comically large, as Vanjie simply waited. Knowing that her friend would crack.

“You gonna meet up with yo girl?” The words boomed, echoing from wall to wall, hitting Vanjie right in the stomach with the force of it all. 

Yo girl. 

_Shit, that hurt._

“She doesn’t know I’m there, and she ain’t my girl no more. You know that, bitch” keeping her voice low, she looked accusingly at Silky. She knew that Brooke was still a sore subject. 

A scare that hadn’t really healed, even though it had almost been a whole year. 

“Uh-huh.” That waggle again. 

“Come on, Miss Gossip Girl. We broke up, she doin’ her thing, I’m doin’ mine. We don’t got to be meeting up every time I drag my ass to the crunchy apple city.” In fact, they hadn’t.

_Met up._

_At all._

The last time they had spoken, had been the day Vanjie had left. Packed up her things and put an end to it all. 

Not that they had yelled or screamed. They’d just hugged and said goodbye. 

Which had somehow been worse. 

“She in the Nutcracker this year, isn’t she?” Silky knew that Vanjie kept herself updated. 

Vanjie knew The New York City Ballet’s programme this season by heart, having shifted through it so many times. 

Brooke was not just in The Nutcracker. 

_Bitch was The Sugar Plum Fairy._

Shit, when Vanjie read that Brooke had finally reached Prima, she screamed out loud. So proud of her, knowing the hours of work, tears, and pain that had gone into reaching that goal. 

Yet, Vanjie had never gotten around to writing to her. 

Too caught up in her own life, her own problems. 

And too goddamn scared to reach out. 

* * *

**_4th of September 2012, New York City, NY_ **

_“Hold up, Mary!”_

_Why Brooke had turned around would forever be a mystery. Her name was decidedly not Mary, and if she was being honest, she was already feeling overwhelmed. The new and doe-eyed students were filling the halls, taking up space and making more noise than necessary._

_Sure, Brooke remembered herself probably looking the same way last year, but this year she was a second-year student._

_She needed people to move, so she could get to her class._

_But there was something about that voice that made her react, stopping in the middle of the hall._

_Turning around she was met by what could only be deemed the most beautiful girl she had ever laid eyes on._

_From her dark hair, which was tied back in a perfect and precise ballet bun, to her deep brown eyes and beautiful lips, Brooke was enchanted._

_The girl looked at her with a big smile, clearly knowing her from somewhere._

_Brooke? Had never seen her before._

_“Hey?” She knew that she must’ve looked confused, not that the girl in front of her cared, her smile bigger and brighter than it should be on the first day of class._

_“I just wanted to thank you for what you said back at the audition.” She clearly knew Brooke, which made her feel caught off guard._

_How could she not remember having seen this ray of sunshine before?_

_“Audition?” The girl's face fell at the question, Brooke realising that her not remembering probably soured whatever memory she had of Brooke._

_“Yeah… You told me that you liked my energy at the first part. Apparently, you been observing?”_

_Oh._

_Yeah. Brooke had begged Alyssa to let her covertly observe the audition, her mentor and teacher having a rare moment of kindness as she let her._

_Brooke had wanted to see the new talent._

_She remembered there being a lot of amazing girls. No real competition, though._

_No memory of speaking with this girl either._

_“I… am so sorry, but I can’t remember that.” And Brooke was sorry, wished that she could go back in time and force herself to pin the moment to her memory board, so it wouldn’t disappear._

_Yet, Brooke’s forgetfulness didn’t seem to deter the girl, as she stuck out her hand, the smile back on her lips._

_“Guess I’m gonna have to do better this time, then. Name’s Vanessa Mateo, and what be yours, Miss Tall and Icy?” Brooke took Vanessa’s hand in hers, trying not to gasp at the tiny electric shock she felt spread from their clasped hands._

_“Brooke Lynn Hytes.” The loud guffaw from Vanessa was expected, though it was the first time that Brooke didn’t want to roll her eyes at someone finding her name funny._

_“Shit girl, you for real?” The sparkle in her eyes was intoxicating._

_“Unfortunately, yes. My parents clearly never intended for me to move to New York.” There was that laugh again._

_Brooke was fucked._


	2. Wrapping Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How the hell do you know Hytes?” the suddenness with which Asia dumped down beside her on the floor made Vanjie jump. Her scattering thoughts had made her forget time and place, as she tried to rub away the ache in her feet from the day’s last class. 
> 
> “Huh?” Vanjie didn’t really get the question. Sure, Brooke and her had made a thing out of eating lunch together, sometimes walking the halls together. 
> 
> But that was it. 
> 
> “Hytes?” Asia looked at her searchingly, clearly wanting to know her secret, though Brooke had never felt like a secret, it wasn’t like the two of them were hiding. 
> 
> They were just eating lunch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cheeks hurt from all the lovely comments. Honestly! 
> 
> Here's chapter 2 - prompt is wrapping paper. 
> 
> Enjoy. <3 <3

**_2nd of December 2019, Los Angeles, CA_ **

“One-Two-Three-Four, come on Vanjie, you gotta keep with the beat!” Daniel’s voice rang out across the otherwise empty dance studio. 

Vanjie was sweating, her legs shaking, as she tried to remember the moves. Rihanna’s “Work” playing over the speakers. 

They had been at it for hours. Vanjie knew the moves, knew the beat, knew everything, but for some reason, she couldn't connect with it at all today.

“Where’s your head at, girl?” David had been confused when she made the first mistake. His brows almost disappearing beneath his hairline. But now after multiple run-throughs, the confusion had shifted into annoyance, as the mistakes multiplied. This wasn’t usually how Vanjie worked, and he seemed to not understand what was going on. 

Neither could Vanjie.

Or maybe just a little.

Vanjie hadn’t been able to shake the conversation she’d had with Silky the day before. The mentioning of Brooke had stayed with her all day. Had made her go down the memory lane, ending up on Youtube, searching for old clips of Brooke being a better ballet dancer than her tall ass had any right to be. 

Her mind kept on travelling back to the years at Julliard, to the cold rehearsal room, ramen being the only food she ever had the time or money to eat. 

Everywhere she looked, Vanjie saw Brooke. 

It made focusing difficult. It made the contact saved under a single ‘B’ that much more alluring. 

_She couldn’t._

“Vanjie, baby. No more today. You’re going to get yourself an injury if we keep on going, and I know all about that knee,” Daniel’s voice was calm and only slightly worried. 

Normally Vanjie would’ve yelled back at him, caused a scene and told him that he didn’t know nothing about her knee and that they should take it from the top. 

_Not today, though._

Her mind was a chaos of memories and images of the most beautiful person she ever had the chance of spending time with. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen Brooke after they broke up. She’s seen her a couple of times, though always covert, always in the hidden. 

Vanjie doubted that Brooke even knew that Vanjie had sneaked in to see her first performance as a Prima. 

Doubted that Brooke knew Vanjie had been a sobbing mess as she looked up at that big stage and seen her fight gravity on just her toes. 

_She had been so goddamn proud of her._

And she had been just as proud the next two times she had gone. 

Not that she ever got the courage to go backstage and congratulate Brooke. 

* * *

**_23rd of October 2012, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie tolerated ballet. Tolerated the rules, the shoes, the pretentious french names and the stern Madame Edwards. She tolerated it because she knew that ballet would make her a better dancer._

_She was a modern dancer at heart, and it showed. She wasn’t the worst one in class at ballet, but she was definitely not the best._

_And that was okay._

_But it had made the first couple of months at Julliard a pain. Her feet aching, her brain filled to the brim with all this information._

_She was thinking in Arabesques, fifth positions, pliés and chassés. A mix of English, French and Spanish._

_“How the hell do you know Hytes?” the suddenness with which Asia dumped down beside her on the floor made Vanjie jump. Her scattering thoughts had made her forget time and place, as she tried to rub away the ache in her feet from the day’s last class._

_“Huh?” Vanjie didn’t really get the question. Sure, Brooke and her had made a thing out of eating lunch together, sometimes walking the halls together._

_But that was it._

_“Hytes?” Asia looked at her searchingly, clearly wanting to know her secret, though Brooke had never felt like a secret, it wasn’t like the two of them were hiding._

_They were just eating lunch._

_“I met her at the audition, she was there to observe or some shit, why?” Vanjie kept on rubbing her left foot, the blisters and cramps a real pain._

_Fucking ballet._

_“You don’t know?” Asia’s voice seemed almost scandalised, and as Vanjie turned to look at her, still grimacing from the pain in her foot, she was met by a pair of raised eyebrows and a slight frown._

_“Know what, Mary?” Vanjie was too tired to play this guessing game. She needed to put on her shoes, and get down to the hall to get some kale-inspired bullshit of a lunch._

_“She’s Madame Edwards’ new prodigy,” Asia’s voice held this level of awe that all the ballet divas had when they spoke of the former ballerina. Vanjie knew talent when she saw it, but she mostly just hated the woman._

_She was, after all, the reason that her feet were hurting so much._

_Asia seemed slightly annoyed that Vanjie wasn’t taking part in her gushing as Vanjie gingerly put on her shoes, almost ignoring her friend._

_“You know she’s got connections to the New York City Ballet, right? If Alyssa likes you, it means that you’ll probably go there,” the way she leaned closer to Vanjie, almost whispering the words - part amazement, part bitter envy - made Vanjie really listen to what she was saying._

_Brooke?_

_“Bitch that good?” Rising from the floor and grabbing her bag, she paid closer attention to Asia, who simply rolled her eyes at her._

_Brooke, who had trouble remembering dates, and had a weird relationship with some type of gravy from a fast food place in Canada._

_“Alyssa? C’mon, you know that she wa-” Vanjie waved Asia off before she started lecturing Vanjie on the achievements of Edwards. She had heard the lecture too many times already from Brooke._

_“I meant Hytes,” at her pointed stare, Asia finally understood, grabbing her own bag and following Vanjie out of the practice studio into the packed hall._

_“You really don’t know?” As Vanjie shook her head, Asia continued, bumping lightly into her shoulder, “she’s a legend around here. Got Prima for the exhibition number last years. First years never get that. Never!” Asia’s eyes were lit with a perplexing mixture of pure jealousy and admiration._

_Vanjie had never seen Brooke dance. In fact, Brooke never really talked about her classes or her projects. Seemingly content with listening to Vanjie’s moaning and groaning over all the first-year tasks._

_“Of course she’s that bitch,” Vanjie muttered, as she walked down to the food hall._

_Apparently, a hoe had been holding out on her._

* * *

**_2nd of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

“Honey, I wish I could, but there is no way that I can leave New York this month. I have too many shows,” Brooke could hear the deep sigh over the line, as she once again had to decline Nina’s invitation. 

Brooke was walking around her spacious studio apartment, using the little spare time she had to clean up a bit. 

Not that it was messy. 

She spent most of her time practising, working, sleeping, and repeating. Having time to sit back down and relax, watch Netflix or even just going out with friends was a rare occurrence. 

_“I just miss seeing my best friend, and…”_ Brooke knew what was coming, could hear the intake and the guilt trip that was about to appear, _“Christmas,”_ as Nina almost whined the word, Brooke closed her eyes. 

“I know… But I can’t, I only have the 25th off. There’s no way I can make it to Columbus and then be here again on the 26th. It’s all a part of the deal, Nins,” Brooke was speaking into her headset as she was shifting through a box of books and papers. 

A leftover from when Vanessa had moved out. 

Brooke hadn’t had the heart to clear it out, hoping against hope that Vanessa would be back before she ever had a chance to look it through. 

That had been a year ago.

_“That’s a shitty deal,”_ Nina’s voice made Brooke grimace. It reminded her of all the times she had declined her friends’ invitations over the last year. 

Work had gone from being her passion to becoming her whole life. She knew that she could probably make it out to Columbus. 

_If she really wanted to._

“It’s not. I am the Prima Ballerina of the New York City Ballet. That’s always been my dream and now it’s real life. It’s perfect,” shifting through the books and papers, her fingers hit a picture frame. 

_“Who are you trying to convince here, sweetie?”_ Nina’s voice seemed far away, as Brooke pulled out the frame, looking it over. 

“Nina. Honey, I’ll call you back okay?” Before Nina had a chance to answer, Brooke had hung up, her eyes almost glued to the frame in her hands. 

A small surprised laugh escaped her lips as she looked at the bright purple coloured wrapping paper, covered with small sea turtles, snowflakes and mistletoes. It was ghastly and so horrible that it became cute. 

She had forgotten about that day, forgotten that they had actually framed it. 

_Fuck, she missed her._

* * *

**_14th of December 2015, New York, NY_ **

_“Why are we here again?” Brooke was tired. Her body hurt, and this was the first day off she’d had for ages. Even Edwards had looked at Brooke and barred her from the studio after catching a glimpse of the bruises that covered her body._

_Not that Vanessa cared, having pulled her out of bed that morning with a gleeful shout, forcing a travel mug into her hand and dragging her on a bus._

_A bus that had stopped at the alarmingly large Target in Harlem._

_“To get ourselves a bargain, bitch,” Vanessa was swinging their clasped hands back and forth, the smile on her face successfully melting away any annoyance Brooke felt, “It be Christmas, it be merry, and we be Target-ing. Get with the programme, baby,” After having known Vanessa for over three years, Brooke should have gotten used to the way Christmas made her crazier than usual._

_Yet, every year it caught her off guard._

_“Okay,” Brooke leaned down and kissed her softly, once again marvelling at her luck. At the fact that she has somehow managed to convince Vanessa to be with her._

_To deal with her coldness, stubbornness, and tendency to forget every aspect of life that wasn’t related to ballet._

_The moment they walked through the sliding doors, Brooke was met with a cacophony of sound. While Vanessa lit up with sheer joy, Brooke felt herself die a little._

_The people, the music, the lights, bright products, and signs all over making her head spin. She grit her teeth, though._

_She knew that Christmas meant a lot to her girlfriend. To spend one hour dealing with the outside world was a small ask._

_Vanessa had run ahead of her. Dodging between old ladies and squealing children. Brooke losing sight of her in a matter of minutes, slowly finding a cart and walking up the main aisle, knowing that Vanessa would find her way back to her._

_“Ho, ho, ho, miss Hytes, Where yo Christmas spirit at?” Brooke startled at the loud voice that suddenly came to the left, as Vanessa dumped an armful of… stuff in the cart, humming ‘Jingle Bells’ to herself._

_Brooke looked the haul over, her eyes stuck on a purple monstrosity._

_“We’re not getting that,” grabbing the wrapping paper, she looked over at Vanessa._

_“Yes. We. Are.” She snatched it out of Brooke’s hands, quickly dumping it back in the cart, her eyes determined and her smile sharp._

_“‘Ness… No, we-”_

_“Listen up, Mami. It got lil turtles, a bangin’ purple shade, and mistletoes. If that ain’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, then I don’t understand your life, your story, or your face,” with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised and a small smirk, Vanessa looked every bit the fiery LA girl that Brooke knew her to be._

_Normally, she would’ve let her get away with._

_But that wrapping paper was a crime against humanity._

_“Vanessa…” Brooke trailed off, seeing the way some of the light slowly vaporized from Vanessa’s eyes. Her smile inching downward._

_Oh no._

_“Baby. Look at it,” pointing her hand towards it, Vanessa was almost pouting, her plumb lip sticking it. She looked like the cutest five-year-old, Brooke had ever seen._

_Nevermind that she was, in fact, her 19-year-old girlfriend._

_“I am looking at it and I think it is blinding me-”_

_“With beauty, yes. Exactly,” Vanessa looked so happy. For a moment nothing else mattered than those deep and beautiful brown eyes staring at her. Filling her up with joy and love._

_It didn’t matter that Brooke hated Christmas, that her body was hurting, or that she was actually going to buy the ugliest piece of wrapping paper to have ever been made in the industry’s history._

_None of that mattered._

_All that mattered was Vanessa. Brooke would do anything to keep that big smile on her lips._

_The sudden burst of love inside of her seemed to fill up every cell and nerve-ending. It made Brooke’s heart feel three times bigger, her smile widening, while her pulse was picking up speed._

_Leaning forward she kissed Vanessa deeply. Not caring that they were standing in the middle of Target on a Sunday morning among all the shoppers._

_“I love you,” the words were whispered against Vanessa’s lips, Brooke’s eyes still closed, as she tried to savour the feeling of pure love and happiness inside of her._

_Vanessa’s laugh was loud as she simply turned around and walked back into the horrible wonderland of despicable Christmas decorations._

_“I’ll take that as a win, babe!” She called back, knowing that Brooke would let her buy every piece of ridiculous Christmassy paper, ornament and sweaters if it made her happy._

_She was so whipped._


	3. White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classical music flowed out of the speaker as Brooke was dancing, almost gliding across the floor. 
> 
> Though calling it dancing was too plain of a word. Vanjie felt herself get sucked in by the sheer beauty of it all. Brooke’s lines straight, her feet precise and delicate. Every movement told a story, every muscle tensed like a violin string ready to be played. 
> 
> She wasn’t just following the music, Brooke was the music. 
> 
> Vanjie felt like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink. Too afraid that any sound, any movement on her part would ruin the magic she was witnessing. 

**_3rd of December 2019, Los Angeles, CA_ **

Packing before a tour was always difficult. You had your costumes and all your gear. You knew that. But packing downtime clothes was way more difficult. They would be going all over the country, from cold-ass New York to hotter than hell Miami to windy Chicago and rainy Seattle. 

_How the hell was a hoe supposed to pack for that?_

Sure, Vanjie knew that most of the time would be spent on the tour bus, hanging out with her fellow dancers and sleeping. Yet, this wasn’t her first rodeo, and she knew that there was downtime to be had.

And she wouldn’t be Vanessa Mateo is she didn’t go out. 

She knew how to pack for New York, already dreading the temperamental weather of the Big Apple. It could go from rainy and dreary, to ice-cold, to warm and mild. 

You just never knew. 

It had been way easier when they packed for tours back at Julliard. Everyone just seemed to live in their sweats until it was time for leotards, tights and dancing. 

_Those were the days._

Brooke had been in a year above her, which usually meant that they had nothing to do with each other at the school. Except when they went on tours. 

Sitting in the back of the bus folded into her warm embrace had always been her favourite part. 

_Those had been the days._

* * *

_**27th of October 2012, New York, NY.** _

> **_U wanna hang out after class? - V_ **
> 
> **_I have a solo I need to practice and Edwards secured me a room, so no. Sorry - B_ **
> 
> **_Next time, then - V_ **

_Vanjie knew that she should have just gone home after class. Should have run out of the building, savouring her free time, rest her feet and binge some Netflix with her ramen._

_But she couldn’t._

_Asia’s words about Brooke and her dancing skills had run around in her head ever since they had first been uttered. Vanjie had realised that it was weird that she had never seen her friend dance._

_Had never glimpsed the so-called brilliance of Brooke Lynn Hytes._

_So here she was, sneaking around the halls, trying to find the one room that held Brooke. Every room she peaked into was filled with dancers, though none of them was the blonde beauty that she was looking for._

_Until she reached the last room._

_Of course._

_Vanjie opened the door softly, not wanting to disturb whoever was in there, hoping that it was Brooke._

_She was not disappointed._

_Classical music flowed out of the speaker as Brooke was dancing, almost gliding across the floor._

_Though calling it dancing was too plain of a word. Vanjie felt herself get sucked in by the sheer beauty of it all. Brooke’s lines straight, her feet precise and delicate. Every movement told a story, every muscle tensed like a violin string ready to be played._

_She wasn’t just following the music, Brooke was the music._

_Vanjie felt like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink. Too afraid that any sound, any movement on her part would ruin the magic she was witnessing._

_Brooke was twirling in black tights and a white crop top, her hair in that tight perfect bun that only true ballet dancers could manage. Her eyes were focused, sweat dripping down her face._

_She was the most beautiful thing that Vanjie had ever seen._

_“That shit be beautiful, Mami!” The words slipped out of her mouth, before Vanjie could stop herself, Brooke instantly breaking concentrating, her head snapping up to look at the door._

_The look of irritation evaporated the moment she noticed it was Vanjie, her smile blinding._

_Vanjie’s heart sped up, something deep inside of her finally recognising what she had been thinking ever since she had first looked at Brooke._

_I think I might be in love._

* * *

**_3rd of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

“Do you ever take a day off, Hytes?” the voice rang out through the empty studio as Brooke was slowly warming up her joints, stretching on the floor and enjoying the quiet. 

Brooke didn’t break her concentration on the stretch, her eyes closed, not surprised for a minute that Violet Chachki would be the first woman to arrive after her. 

“I could say the same thing to you, Chachki,” going deeper into the stretch, Brooke heard a bag getting dumped onto the floor, together with the sound of soft footfalls coming closer.

Leaning back up, Brooke came face to face with Violet. Her black hair tied up in a tight ponytail. Her skin clear, and her eyes were drawn with a perfect eyeliner. 

She had only ever seen Violet without eyeliner on three times in the years they had known each other. They had all involved alcohol and regrets. 

“So, have you heard, then?” Violet slid down to the floor next to her, slowly beginning her own stretching routine. 

Violet and Brooke had made Primas almost at the same time, and even though everything in ballet forced you to always see all other dancers as competition, a friendship had been forged between the two of them. 

The way the two of them had a laser-sharp focus and an ability to always work just a little harder, meant that they were both the best and worst training partners. 

“Heard what?” Knowing Violet it could be anything from gossip between the dancers, some news about the up and coming from Julliard or something else that was completely irrelevant to Brooke. 

“That Vanjie is going to be back in town from tomorrow.” Or that. 

Everything inside of Brooke seemed to stop for a minute, as the words truly hit her.

_Vanessa. In New York._

For a moment, she wished that she was a smoker just so she could go outside and chain-smoke a pack in sheer terror. 

She kept her face impassive as she merely raised an eyebrow at Violet. 

“Oh?” Violet’s laugh made it clear that Brooke wasn’t fooling her with her supposed indifference. 

“She’s here for the Rihanna shows, doing backup on the whole tour,” 

Brooke felt a surge of pride. Her stomach filled with butterflies, while her eyes for a microsecond pricked with unshed tears, gone within a blink. Vanessa had always talked about how she wanted to live a life on the road, doing big productions and dancing backup for some of her favourite artists. 

She had never been cut out for ballet, nor did she want to be a part of that world. And while contemporary dance was something she enjoyed, it had never been a dream for Vanessa to only do those types of dance shows - even if she was absolutely amazing at it. 

You could take the girl off the street, but you couldn’t take the street out of the girl. 

“She really did it,” Brooke whispered the words in amazement to herself. 

_Moving back to L.A. had been worth it, then._

If that thought filled Brooke with equal amounts of sorrow and happiness, she would never tell.

* * *

**_17th of November 2012, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke didn’t know how she had ended up in this room. It was way after hours on a Wednesday evening. Normally she would have been lying in her bed by now, either grimacing at her aching her feet or trying to wrap her head around the reading for her dance history class._

_Instead, she was sitting on a chair in one of the many big and spacious studios, peering at the way Vanessa was nervously walking back and forth._

_“So... ‘Ness. You texted me, and I am here. Now, I am all for the nervous pacing, really, honestly. 10/10. But was that really what you wanted to show me?” Brooke kept her voice light, the shakiness of Vanessa telling her, that she needed to tread lightly._

_“You shady, hoe. And no. That ain’t what I wanted to show your white ass.” A single raised eyebrow told Brooke that this was serious, their usual banter feeling stilted in the face of Vanessa’s anxiety._

_“Then what are you waiting for?” Brooke pointed out to the floor, knowing that the only cure against stagefright was to simply do it. Jump of the cliff and hope that you landed softly._

_“Promise… Promise you ain’t gon make fun of me?” Vanessa’s normally gruff and loud voice was soft, almost_

_“Why would I ever do that?”_

_“Just you wait, Mami, just you wait.”_

_She walked over to turn on the music, not looking back at Brooke. It was new to see her this frazzled, Brooke not really knowing what to do to help calm her down._

_The music began, a heavy beat, coupled with a light female voice. Vanessa walked out to the middle of the floor, took a deep breath and then._

_Magic._

_The harsh movements, loud stomps couple with movements from ballet and contemporary dance all seemed to flow into one continuous routine. Brooke knew that her mouth was slightly open as she leaned forward in her chair._

_Vanessa seemed to be somewhere else. Every line of her body was so wrong and so right. Sure there were countless moves that wouldn’t have been deemed okay if this dance had been done in class._

_But here, in this room to that song, Brooke had never looked at anything more right, more perfect._

_Vanessa in her bright red dance tights and black sports bra was a vision. She commanded the room, commanded attention and Brooke was more than willing to give it to her._

_Brooke could never ever dance like that._

_That freely._

_That level of perfection in the imperfection of it all._

_It was exquisite._

_It was everything._

_She had never seen anything more beautiful than Vanessa in that moment. Honestly, she never thought that she would._

_Her heart was beating in sync with the music, already in tune with everything that was Vanessa._

_Already it had pleaded its allegiance to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for caring even a single bit about this idea and this story. 
> 
> It truly, truly, TRULY warms my heart. <3 <3


	4. Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Miss Vanjie!” The loud voice could be heard above all the noise at JFK Airport, Vanjie almost dropping all of her luggage to run into the arms of A’keria. But she didn’t, her suitcases too big and too heavy to be dropped. 
> 
> So instead, she shuffle walked over to her friend, not caring if she bumped into any of the people too dumb to not get out of her way. Almost falling into her arms, Vanjie felt home in a way that she hadn’t for a long time. 
> 
> “Kiki! How I’ve missed that ass and that mug!” The muffled words were uttered against A’keria’s shoulder, Vanjie too short to reach higher. 
> 
> The hug reminded her of evenings with too much wine, getting thrown out of clubs, spending Sundays bitching, and studying. 
> 
> Kiki.
> 
> One of the best parts of New York. 

**_4th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

“Miss Vanjie!” The loud voice could be heard above all the noise at JFK Airport, Vanjie almost dropping all of her luggage to run into the arms of A’keria. But she didn’t, her suitcases too big and too heavy to be dropped. 

So instead, she shuffle walked over to her friend, not caring if she bumped into any of the people too dumb to not get out of her way. Almost falling into her arms, Vanjie felt home in a way that she hadn’t for a long time. 

“Kiki! How I’ve missed that ass and that mug!” The muffled words were uttered against A’keria’s shoulder, Vanjie too short to reach higher. 

The hug reminded her of evenings with too much wine, getting thrown out of clubs, spending Sundays bitching, and studying. 

Kiki. 

_One of the best parts of New York._

“Bitch, you better have!” Leaning back and deftly grabbing one of the suitcases, she started leading Vanjie out of the arrival hall. The main reason for having Kiki pick her up was that she was one of those insane people that had a car while living in New York. 

It still boggled Vanjie’s mind that anyone would want to deal with that hassle. 

“So, does your girl know you up here?” Kiki’s question instantly made Vanjie feel trapped inside the car. 

There was no way to hide inside that metal can of a car.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Vanjie was over that question, over it all being her responsibility to reach out. Maybe Brooke should do it. 

_You broke up with her, though._

“'Cause y’all didn’t break up because you wanted to, but because you both idiots?” Trust A’keria to cut through all the bullshit and go straight to the core. 

It was what made her a perfect friend to Vanjie. 

While also being a pain in the ass when you wanted to avoid shit. 

“No. I haven’t told her. And I’m not going to. She busy.” Vanjie shrugged, hoping that they could move the conversation to some other subject. 

_ She couldn’t really handle this.  _

“How you know that?” A’keria was focused on the road, though her face showed no sign of letting go of the subject of Brooke. 

“Because she a Prima?” Vanjie knew that Brooke wouldn’t suddenly start relaxing just because she had reached the top. 

That was not how them ballet girls worked. 

“Bitch, they be having five or six of them fancy-schmancy Primas. You know how the NYC Ballet works. And you know that Miss Hytes would drop everything just to see your ass again.” the conviction behind A’keria’s words felt wrong to Vanjie’s ears. 

She really wouldn’t.

Vanjie remembered the fights they had before she left. Remembered the words they had said to each other. 

If she was honest, she was pretty sure that Brooke wanted to have nothing to with Vanjie. 

“Keeks, why we gots to talk about my ex? She ain’t mine no more, and she be living her best life and that is grrrreat. So how about we start talking ‘bout the lil mister? I seen them Insta posts, I notice he growin’” Vanjie was fishing, hoping that A’keria would take the bait and move away from the topic of Brooke.

Vanjie couldn’t handle the idea of sitting in the car for almost an hour being interrogated about her ex.

Not even for Kiki. 

“Honey, that boy is going to be the death of me, I swear, last Satur-” Vanjie sighed in relief, once again happy that A’keria’s son could be used as a distraction. 

_Thank fuck that Kiki was a gushin’ Mama._

* * *

**_12th of June 2015, New York, NY_ **

The beat was pumping so loud it was all Vanjie could hear. Feel. Know. Her body was moving in tandem with the baseline, her heart hitting the badum-badum. At this moment, nothing mattered but the music. 

The way that it made her feel freer than any piece of classical music at school had ever managed to. 

Vanjie didn’t know where Brooke was, her girlfriend having disappeared in the crowd long ago. 

But it didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was the beat. The way it made her move. It felt like her body wasn’t hers to control, having instead become a vessel for the music to use. 

Her hips swayed that way, her legs following steps that had no rules, no wrongs, just music. 

She wasn’t drunk on alcohol, she was drunk on this feeling. 

She wanted more of this. 

Wanted to always feel like this when she danced. The rules at Julliard had first felt like a guideline, a way to know what was correct and what was not. Yet, here, at the end of her third year, those same rules had become suffocating. 

The relentlessness of them, the way they turned dance into something you could do wrong was …

Hard. 

It was why Vanjie went out to party on the weekends, even though Brooke looked at her disapprovingly. 

Brooke loved the rules. Loved the challenge of them. 

Vanjie felt like they were drowning her. 

So she went here. To become one with the beat. Just for a night.

It made the weekdays easier when she knew that come Saturday, she would be back on that dancefloor - once again letting the music be her guidance. 

Just one more year, and then she would be free. 

* * *

**_4th of December 2019, New York, NYC_ **

Every part of Brooke’s life was planned. From the moment she woke up at 6 AM to her head hitting the pillow at 9 PM, her day was fine-tuned to fully optimise her waking hours.

It was all a long string of things that were good for her. Morning yoga, reen matcha, cold shower, practice at the barre, some weightlifting, a perfectly balanced lunch, meetings with the troupe, more training, more stretching, drinking more of that disgusting green tea, and then either performing or going home to bed. 

Sometimes she let herself take a day out of her schedule to do nothing. 

Sometimes she slept in. 

Sometimes she went out. 

Both those days were far and in-between. Ever since Vanessa had closed the door to the apartment, Brooke had turned into a workaholic. 

Had turned into more of a workaholic than she already was.

There was no reason to take a day off when you had no one to spend it with. 

There was no reason to go out if you only went out by yourself. 

At least, that was her reasoning. 

If Brooke was perfectly honest with herself, the main reason for her never really taking a day off, was that it would make it clear how tired she was.

She was afraid that if she stopped for just a second, she would never be able to start again, never be able to force her body to go through the pain of everyday life. 

Yet… 

Today she was sitting on the floor of her living room, her yoga mat laid out, waiting for her to begin her daily routine. 

Except.

_She hadn’t._

The clock kept on ticking, and Brooke had kept on sitting on the floor, watching time pass her by as she did nothing. 

Looking out her window she could see New York bustling along, Christmas decorations shining brighter than they had any right to do at 9:30 AM. 

It all made sense when she was on stage. Every sacrifice, every rule she had made, all the things she kept on denying herself. 

They were worth it when she stood on that stage.

They made less sense here, now. 

Taking a deep breath, Brooke unfolded herself from the floor, walking over to her mat and getting into mountain pose. 

_Another day, another grind._

* * *

**_17th of July 2016, New York, NY_ **

_Vanessa was tapping her shoe against the hardwood floor, every bit of her signalling that she was tired of waiting for Brooke. She wanted to leave for a party, her skin tight dress and heels all trying to lure Brooke away from her practise._

_Her never-ending redoing and reshaping of herself._

_“Brooke, baby. Come on. The weather be bombing, the club wild, and the night younger than the botox in D’s forehead, we going out!” Her loud voice was trying so hard to convince Brooke to take a night off, to just relax._

_“Ness. I can’t.” Brooke couldn’t. She could feel the way her whole body was already vibrating with nervous energy at the mere thought of leaving the apartment to go drinking with Vanessa and A’keria._

_Drinking would mean that tomorrow would be ruined too._

_The prospect of missing two days of practise made Brooke dizzy._

_“You can. Ain’t nothing happening tomorrow. Brooke, baby, you can let go of your stupid ass no-alcohol rule for a single evening.” She was pleading now, walking towards Brooke, who was sitting on the couch, still in her workout clothes, her laptop opened, YouTube playing with no sound, as Brooke researched old Bolshoi performances._

_Brooke knew that she had been a bad girlfriend that last couple of months. Ballet consuming every single aspect of her life, while Vanessa was working hard on her last year at Julliard._

_The difference was that while her girlfriend was now enjoying her summer break, Brooke was still working._

_Still trying to show her worth down at NYC Ballet._

_“Babe…” Brooke didn’t want to disappoint her again, didn’t want to say no. But every part of her body was screaming at her to rehearse, to go over the movements just one more time._

_“It can’t be all rules, pain, and going to bed earlier than my Abuela, bitch.” Vanessa’s eyes turned hard, an angry glint appearing, and a knot forming in Brooke’s stomach. “You think miss Violet be sittin’ at home all night, every night?” Vanessa looked like she had cracked the code as if this argument would be the way to get Brooke to take an evening off._

_Brooke knew that Violet wasn’t spending her weekend on ballet. Knew that she was busy working her magic on some old and hot Jazz Club owner._

_Classic Violet._

_But maybe…_

_Just maybe, staying at home would give Brooke an edge over Violet. The thing that would finally tip the scales, making her seem like the obvious choice for Prima - instead of Violet._

_“I-” Brooke didn’t even get a chance to answer before Vanessa cut her off._

_“We goin’.” Grabbing Brooke’s hand, Vanessa was determined to get her off the couch._

_“No.” Yanking her hand back, Brooke knew that her voice had turned cold._

_But she couldn’t leave._

_“No? What that ‘sposed to mean?” Vanessa looked almost striking at the sudden change in Brooke’s voice, her hand still held out._

_“That I am not going. But you can go. I know that you want to. Go dance and take shots with A’keria.” She didn’t want to sound dismissive, but Brooke could tell by the way her body was itching to get back to work, that she was already over this conversation._

_The way Vanessa’s eyes turned glassy was also a good indicator._

_“Brooke. C’mon, this is getting ridic. You ain’t never going to no party with me anymore.” A small part of her wanted to go with Vanessa. To see her girlfriend let loose amid a large crowd._

_But..._

_“I just need to-”_

_“Be better than everybody else, so you can reach this stupid ass goal of being HBIC at the Ballet. I see how it is. Them twinkle toes be more important than spending a night out with your girlfriend who almost never sees you.” Vanessa’s voice had risen, ending in a full-on yell that made Brooke’s insides wither and die._

_Brooke hated that she was the cause of this. That she could just let all of this go for a single night._

_“Ness-”_

_"No. It be fine, it be good, it be fucking great, miss Brooke Lynn.” Giving her no chance to answer, Vanessa quickly grabbed her jacket and walked off, never looking back at Brooke._

_Not even once._

_The resounding slam of the door and her final ‘fuck you’ haunting Brooke for hours after her departure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they are both in New York...
> 
> Wonder what'll happen tomorrow?


	5. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you going to go up and say hi, or do you enjoy standing out here loitering?” The dry voice startled Vanjie from thoughts, making her jump high enough that for a moment she thought she was crossfittin’ or something. 
> 
> Violet Chachki
> 
> Turning around she was met by the tall, beautiful, and annoying human incarnation of a cat. 
> 
> “And, Nah. I ain’t gon' go bothering her. She gots other stuff to do.” Seeing Violet had done it for Vanjie. There was no way that she was going to see Brooke now.
> 
> “Why? Is it because you’re wearing that outfit?” Violet looked her up and down, lip curled slightly in obvious distaste. 
> 
> “The fuck is wrong with my outfit, Chachki?” Vanjie had specifically chosen a classy black dress and heels, knowing that she needed to dress up for the ballet. 
> 
> The white faux fur made her feel extra classy. 
> 
> 100% socialite baby hoe couture, bitch.

**_5th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

The applause and shouts of ‘Brava’ followed Brooke of the stage, her heart pounding, as the post-performance adrenaline ran through her body. 

This was everything. 

Performing on stage, sharing the moment with a whole room of people. Standing in that spotlight and forcing her body into positions that most people could only dream of. It was a rush wilder than anything she had ever tried before. 

Her limbs crying out in pain, while the endorphins were rushing through her at the speed of light. 

She was so tired, so ready to go home, but her mind was more alive than ever. 

_This._

This was why she did ballet. 

She shared a blissed-out look with Milk, tonight’s partner for the pas de deux before she walked into her solo dressing room.

They had been good tonight. 

They had been amazing.

Brooke’s closed the door behind her, her eyes immediately falling on the ridiculous large bouquet on her table, her brows wrinkling in confusion. 

Who would send flowers to her? 

_ Now?  _

Walking closer, her heart skipped a beat. 

_White tulips._

Her favourite flower, ever since the first time her mother had placed a bundle of them on their dinner table. 

Vanessa had always made fun of her for it. 

_“Trust your white ass to be going for these dirt cheap petals, when I woulda bought you a hundred red roses, babe.”_

Brooke tried to keep the hope at bay, as she searched for a card. She couldn’t tell if she wanted them to be from Vanessa or not. 

The implications of such a gift too difficult to decipher, especially since they hadn’t spoken with each other for almost a year. 

Coming up empty in her search, she decided that it was probably just from a fan who had gotten lucky in picking a flower. 

_Why would Vanessa ever send her flowers?_

* * *

**_3rd of January 2013, New York, NY_ **

_The room was almost overflowing with kleenex, Brooke’s fever having forced her to succumb to the allure of the bed, instead of cleaning up her mess._

_Just her luck to get the flu a week before exams._

_Classic, really._

_Her phone had been buzzing on and off all day, but she’d had no strength to answer it, though she could guess that the texts would be from Vanessa._

_Vanessa._

_The name, even in her moment of illness, sent a small shiver of delight through her whole body._

_There was just something about her. The way she talked as if nothing held her back. Those big, brown eyes that were always filled with emotion._

_Her energy._

_Her talent._

_Her beauty._

_God, Brooke knew she was falling for her._

_Falling hard._

_Even though she had promised herself that there would be no distractions, nothing to keep her away from her true calling._

_Ballet._

_But for Vanessa, she might just make an exception._

_The sound of a key in the lock made Brooke sluggishly pull her head out from under the covers, where she had been hiding the whole day._

_“Holy shit, Mary. You ended up having a fight with them Kleenex, or you just trying to make it snow inside?” Vanessa’s voice sounded bemused as she walked into the room and over to Brooke in bed, a large shopping bag in her left hand._

_“Huh?” Too tired, her head filled up with snot and illness, Brooke couldn’t completely understand what Vanessa was going on about._

_“Oh hon, you real sick.” Sitting down on the bed, Vanessa placed her hand on Brooke’s forehead, trying to gauge her temperature._

_Brooke almost moaned as the coolness of her hand instantly cleared her head up a bit._

_“I just need to sleep it off, then I’ll be fine. We have exams and I ne-”_

_“Oh, baby, this ain’t some 24-hour thing where you be back on them toes in no time, no, Ma’am. I brought your fragile lil ballerina ass some chicken soup, them mint candies you like, and chick flicks, so we can get you back on track.” Vanessa’s eyes showed that Brooke wouldn’t win the argument._

_The determination in those clear and big eyes was difficult enough to beat on a day where Brooke was feeling 100%._

_Today, she stood no chance against them._

_“You’re too kind, ‘Ness.” Maybe something inside of her wanted to be taken care of by Vanessa._

_Wanted to bask in her full attention for a little while._

_“Nah, I just care ‘bout you.” The tiny smile made Brooke’s heart soar._

_The words running on repeat inside her mind._

_“You’re an angel. You know that, right?” It was probably a mix of the flu and Vanessa saying those words that made Brooke call her an angel._

_She couldn’t, however, regret saying that, when Vanjie’s smile turned blinding, coupled with a rosy tint on her cheeks._

_Brooke was so far gone for this girl._

* * *

**_5th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie was being an idiot._

Everyone had left the foyer, hurrying outside into the cold on their way home after having witnessed the beauty that was The Nutcracker at the New York City Ballet. Vanjie had intended to follow along.

She needed to get back to A’keria’s, to catch up on some sleep before everything started with RiRi tomorrow. 

Except. 

_She hadn’t._

Instead, she was pacing back and forth - trying to decide if she should just bite the bullet and go up to Brooke. Vanjie knew that she was still there.

Brooke had a tendency to soak up her time in the dressing room, slowly getting out of her costume, going through numerous stretches to make her limbs feel human again. 

Because she hadn’t looked human on that stage that night. The ethereal beauty of her in that dazzling white costume and huge tutu skirt had made Vanjie cry. 

Big, silent, and proud tears as she sat in the far back of the theatre. 

Her traitorous mind had softly whispered an unhelpful “ _that’s my girl,_ ” before the harsh realisation of that being untrue hit her. 

“Are you going to go up and say hi, or do you enjoy standing out here loitering?” The dry voice startled Vanjie from thoughts, making her jump high enough that for a moment she thought she was crossfittin’ or something. 

Turning around she was met by the tall, beautiful, and annoying human incarnation of a cat. 

_Violet Chachki._

“Fuck, Violet, you can’t sneak up on a hoe like that.” Vanjie knew her voice was pitched too high and too loud, echoing in the larger than life lobby of the David Kock theater. 

But, shit, the bitch gave her a fright. 

“Seems like I just did.” Violet merely shrugged, the ballerina not giving a single fuck. 

As per usual.

“And, Nah. I ain’t gon' go bothering her. She gots other stuff to do.” Seeing Violet had done it for Vanjie. There was no way that she was going to see Brooke now.

The implications of a visit would be too much. 

“Why? Is it because you’re wearing that outfit?” Violet looked her up and down, lip curled slightly in obvious distaste. 

_Shady hoe._

“The fuck is wrong with my outfit, Chachki?” Vanjie had specifically chosen a classy black dress and heels, knowing that she needed to dress up for the ballet. 

The white faux fur made her feel extra classy. 

_100% socialite baby hoe couture, bitch._

This wasn’t her first rodeo, she knew the dress code. 

“Oh, so it’s intentionally bad?” The indifference on her face, coupled with the slight shrug made Vanjie’s hackles raise. 

Nothing like being confronted with a privileged little ballet girl made her want to pop off faster than a champagne cork. 

“Bitch, you haven’t changed at all-” Before Vanjie had a chance to really get going, Violet interrupted her with a single raised finger. 

“She’d be happy to see you. Trust me.” Violet walked closer to Vanjie, her eyes had lost their coldness, instead seeming real and encouraging. 

Yet, her words tasted sour, making Vanjie grimace. 

“Ain’t like she ever reached out.” She couldn’t stop the words from leaving her lips, remembering the first couple of months in L.A. where every buzz of her phone made her scramble after it. Hoping beyond hope that it would mean a text from Brooke. 

Except it never was. 

“Well, you were the one to leave.” Violet’s shrug told Vanjie that she held no sympathy for her hurt feelings. “Something about needing space to grow and nurture your own career, and she gave you that. Space, y’ know.” Violet’s words made a knot form in Vanjie’s stomach. 

That was not what Vanjie had said to Brooke. 

She had said words far angrier and harsher than those. 

_Trust Brooke to never repeat such things to anyone else._

“You sayin’ I gots to call her?” Vanjie’s palms already felt sweaty at the prospect of being the one to instigate contact, the idea of hearing Brooke’s voice after so long making her heart soar.

“I’m saying that she won’t ever believe those flowers are from you, unless you show up,” of course Violet knew about the flowers. 

“White tulips were always her thing, she knows I know that.” Vanjie had assumed that Brooke would figure out it was her. 

Vanjie had always, always bought Brooke a bouquet of white tulips whenever she went to see Brooke perform. 

It felt wrong to watch Brooke and not give her that.

“She also thinks that you don’t want anything to do with her, so I wouldn’t assume shit if I were you.” The words hit Vanjie harder than she would ever admit. 

_Did Brooke really not know that those flowers were from her?_

* * *

**_3rd of September 2018, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie felt dirty._

_She wasn’t hiding anything. Wasn’t trying to go behind Brooke’s back or nothing._

_But after Shuga had hinted at a dance company in LA, stating that the director was going to drop by during the fall, Vanjie’s mind had wandered._

_It wasn’t that she planned on going to LA._

_She was just checking it out._

_Getting a vibe._

_She wasn’t looking up listings for one-room apartments in LA because she wanted to go._

_Nope._

_She was just curious._

_Investigating it better than Miss Marple, Sherlock Holmes, and the motherfucking Scooby gang could ever do._

_She didn’t want to leave New York. Didn’t want to leave Brooke._

_She was just…_

_Making sure that she knew her options._

_If - and it was a big if - if the director liked her style._

_She wasn’t hiding anything from Brooke, she was just not home at the moment. Indeed, she seemed to spend more time in the studio than anywhere else, the prospect of becoming Prima getting closer, needing her full attention._

_Vanjie understood why Brooke wasn’t home. Understood, more than anyone else, that she needed to sacrifice all of her time at the altar of the NYC Ballet._

_Still stung, though._

_It still stung that after almost 5 years together she was still the second choice. Always two steps behind Brooke’s first and painful love - ballet._

_Vanjie missed her girlfriend. Missed seeing her look at her with anything other than tired and pained eyes._

_So, yeah._

_She was just looking at apartments in LA._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, losers, we're going angsting!
> 
> And who knows our two idiots might soon actually meet up - tune in tomorrow. 
> 
> for that.
> 
> maybe?


	6. Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sound of the door echoed through the bathroom, though neither Brooke nor Vanessa gave it any notice, as Brooke deftly locked the door behind them, her lips never leaving Vanessa’s for a second. 
> 
> The moment their eyes met, Brooke had felt all her walls crumble, her own willpower non-existent, as she was held captive by those deep brown eyes. 
> 
> Everything inside of her was screaming for her to stop, to walk away while she could, but the glide of those plumb lips against her own was too good, too perfect to leave alone. 
> 
> “Brooke.” The quiet yet needy moan only managed to spur her on, as she flipped them around, pushing Vanessa against the door. 
> 
> “Shhh, we need to be quiet,” Brooke whispered the word into her ear as her hands trailed down Vanessa’s body, reaching the fastening of her jeans. 

**_6th of December 2019, New York City_ **

How Vanjie’s feet had found their way to this specific Starbucks was a mystery. She hadn’t really been thinking about where she was going after she had left the rehearsal studio in search of some coffee and a muffin. 

Vanjie had walked aimlessly for the better part of an hour, pathetic, when she was currently in the metropolis of cafés. 

Yet, they all felt wrong, all too full, too empty, too pricey, or too dicey. 

Until this Starbucks. 

It had felt correct. 

It was only after Vanjie had had a change of mind, suddenly ordering hot cocoa, that she realised where she was. 

It almost knocked her over, the realisation that she had subconsciously remembered. 

This had been their spot. 

Not regularly. But they had gone here once every year. Always for hot chocolate. 

Always on the 6th of December. 

Vanjie kept the tears at bay, as they tried to turn her cocoa salty. Especially as she realised that Brooke and her hadn’t gone last year. Too caught up in their own stuff, their own drama, to make the time. 

Fuck. 

Vanjie needed to leave, needed to get away from the memories of smiles, blue eyes, and kisses. 

Leaving her half-finished cocoa behind, she rushed towards the door, focusing so much on getting her jacket back on, that she didn’t notice the person in front of her, bumping into them. 

“Sorry-”

“Shit, I’m-”

That voice. 

_That voice._

Looking up, Vanjie was met by the oceanic eyes that had always managed to draw her in. Her heart rate going through the roof, while her hands clenched themselves into tiny fists. 

“Brooke.”

“Vanessa.”

The sound of her voice saying her name was softer than a lover's caress, Vanjie already under Brooke’s spell.

Her mind was blank, as she tried to figure out what to do. 

What to say?

Should she leave?

_Or?_

* * *

**_6th of December 2012, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie was cranky, stressed, and cold._

_Covered in multiple layers of clothing, the dreariness of New York’s December weather enough to make even that happiest part of her feel just a tiny bit done and tired._

_And it would have been if it wasn’t for the cute, tall, and absolutely adorable blonde walking in front of her, almost dragging Vanjie through the darkening streets._

_“Bitch, where you taking me? I gots exams to crunch crunch! I know you the Beyoncé of the goddamn class, who wins just by showing up, but us, Michelles, gotta work for it!” Ever since Brooke had dropped by her dorm, telling her to get going, that the books could wait for a while, Vanjie had felt bad._

_This was her first true exam, and she wanted to do well. Wanted to make her mama proud and show everyone that she belonged at the fancy-ass school._

_“You’ve never been a Michelle in your whole life, ‘Ness.” Brooke’s pointed stare, which was followed by a tiny giggle, made Vanjie smile._

_It wasn’t often that the serious ice queen let go of all her correctness, but when she did?_

_Damn._

_Vanjie was so gay for her tall pointe ass._

_“Truth. I’m Rihanna if I be anything.” Vanjie knew that Brooke was trying to distract her, hating that it worked._

_She could faintly hear her books back home screaming for her, but they were somehow getting drowned out by Brooke’s dazzling smile as she kept on walking forward._

_“Exactly.” The wink that followed her words, made Vanjie’s heart skip a beat. “You’re still not getting out of this, though,” Brooke said, as she stopped in front of a small Starbucks, pushing the door open, clearly expecting Vanjie to follow her._

_“Bitch, we walking all this way for a motherfucking Starbucks? Brooke. Honey, you for real? There’s one right next to campus.” Vanjie couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice._

_If Brooke wanted some white girl frappé, she could’ve gotten it ages ago, and Vanjie would have been back to studying right now._

_“Yeah, but this one is quieter.” Brooke’s shrug made Vanjie want to scream. Trust the golden girl not to notice that Vanjie was scared shitless about the exam._

_“So?” Taking a deep breath, Vanjie tried to reign in the anger that was bubbling inside of her._

_Having a crush on Brooke meant that she needed to keep her cool._

_Vanjie didn’t want to scare her off._

_“Could you for once just close your mouth, find us a table, and trust me?” Biting her lips, Vanjie nodded. Stomping her way over to a table, Vanjie tried to tone down the petulant child, not wanting Brooke to view her as being younger than her 17 years._

_Glancing over at Brooke ordering, she couldn’t help but once again note how ridiculously beautiful she was. It wasn’t often that Vanjie got to see Brooke outside of her prim and proper ballerina look._

_So seeing her like this - hair loose, cheeks flushed from the wind, and eyes shining, was amazing._

_It made Vanjie soften a bit._

_Or a lot._

_Brooke stood and patiently waited for their order, her feet in the fifth position, because she was a ballerina no matter where she was._

_Dork._

_Brooke’s face lit up as the drinks were handed to her, her prim and proper walk down to Vanjie a thing of beauty._

_As she reached the table she sat down the two white mugs, Brooke’s containing some green concoction that smelled like grass, while the one she put in front of Vanjie was a dream of hot cocoa._

_Mini marshmallows, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce._

_But still._

_The Starbucks next to campus could have made the exact same hot cocoa, without also including a 30-minute walk across town._

_“Hot cocoa? That all?” Vanjie tried to decipher Brooke’s face like she was the Da Vinci code. The way that her eyes seemed distant as she sat down in front of her._

_She was softly fiddling with her own mug before she took a long sip of her green kale bullshit latté._

_“My mom…” Brooke trailed off, a tiny, soft smile grazing her lips as she seemed to relive some sort of memory._

_Vanjie was instantly intrigued, Brooke never, ever talking about her own family, other than saying that they lived in Canada now, having moved there from Tennessee._

_“My mom always said that there was no amount of stress that a cup of Hot cocoa couldn’t fix. I can’t remember her specific words - she has a tendency to wax poetry for a long time - but it was something like, ‘there ain’t nothin’ that a lil hot chocolate and whipped cream can’t cure. Trust your mamma, baby,’” Brooke finished off with a laugh, shaking her head softly._

_Vanjie wanted to take a snapshot of this moment, and then carefully wrap it up to savour it._

_From Brooke’s perfect southern accent to the way her eyes glinted with the memory._

_Half sad, half happy, fully beautiful._

_It was everything._

_“So we drinkin’ hot cocoa to calm my angsty ass down?” Vanjie lifted the mug, needing both her hands to hold it upright._

_“We’re drinking hot cocoa to calm your angsty ass down, yes.”_

_They talked and talked and talked. Vanjie felt her shoulders relax with every minute that passed as Brooke retold the tales of how Edwards had yelled at one of the third years, her giggles the cutest thing in the world._

_The way she became so expressive the moment you removed her from the pressure of school and her peers._

_She was beautiful._

_That messy blonde hair, cheeks flushed from the heat of the café, and her happy eyes were the most magnificent thing Vanjie had ever looked at._

* * *

**_6th of December 2019, New York City_ **

The sound of the door echoed through the bathroom, though neither Brooke nor Vanessa gave it any notice, as Brooke deftly locked the door behind them, her lips never leaving Vanessa’s for a second. 

The moment their eyes met, Brooke had felt all her walls crumble, her own willpower non-existent, as she was held captive by those deep brown eyes. 

Everything inside of her was screaming for her to stop, to walk away while she could, but the glide of those plumb lips against her own was too good, too perfect to leave alone. 

“Brooke.” The quiet yet needy moan only managed to spur her on, as she flipped them around, pushing Vanessa against the door. 

“Shhh, we need to be quiet,” Brooke whispered the word into her ear as her hands trailed down Vanessa’s body, reaching the fastening of her jeans. 

Her heartbeat almost managed to drown out Vanessa’s barely held back moans, her stomach a mess of anxious knots and liquid desire. 

She was here. 

“I need-” Brooke had to close her eyes at the low whine, feeling herself getting transported back to the days when that sound was something she was familiar with. 

Back when it was _hers._

She pushed on, her body knowing the way, while her mind had gone off-road, still struck by the fact that Vanessa was here, in her arms. 

_Willingly._

Pushing down Vanessa’s jeans, her fingers tentatively cupped her, feeling the wetness already gathered there. 

_Fuck._

“Brooke, please,” Vanessa’s pleas were too much, too fast, so Brooke leaned down, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. 

It was too hungry and too hard to be anything remotely like how they used to come together. Brooke needed the distinction, needed to remind herself that this was just the two of them being idiots, not them reconciling. 

Even if every glide of their tongues against each other felt like coming home. 

The feel of skin, all soft with the hard muscle underneath, every bit the dancer from top to toe. 

_Fuck, she’d missed her._

As she placed her thigh between Vanessa’s legs, Brooke couldn’t help smirking into the kiss, as Vanessa gasped at the contact. 

Her back aching off the wall, already completely under Brooke’s spell.

She still knew what made her tick. 

The rush of that. Of still having that power made Brooke continue, not caring that every inch of her knew that this was temporary. That this was perhaps the stupidest thing she’d done since she let Vanessa walk out of that door a year ago. 

Brooke shook her head slightly, needing those thoughts to disappear, knowing that they would do no good here. Instead, she should focus on the now. 

On the feel of Vanessa. How she hadn’t changed a bit, right down to the fruity smell of her perfume. 

She would let herself have this. 

Brooke reaches down and pushed Vanessa’s panties to the side, letting a single finger glide over Vanessa’s centre, her breath hitching, as Brooke continued kissing her with everything she got. 

The little sounds, the small hitches and groans could be analysed later, right now Brooke let them wash over her, bathing her in everything that once was and could never be again.

As Brooke started to slowly pump her finger into her, her lips drifted down Vanessa’s jaw, knowing that with the right amount of pressure, she would turn soft. 

The soft groan that followed, as Brooke’s lips reached just below her ear was confirmation enough. 

_Bingo._

“Please.” That single word was like music to Brooke, everything inside of soaring at the rush of control she still had over. 

“Please, what?” She whispered it directly into her ear, the single-digit never once stopping its ministrations. 

Brooke knew that the sensations weren’t enough. 

Knew that she needed more. 

“Fuck,” the frustration in her voice made Brooke smile softly, as she bit Vanessa’s earlobe. Her other hand was lightly cupping her breast, knowing that the friction was just enough to feel good, but not enough to give Vanessa what she wanted.

So Brooke waited. 

Smirking slightly as she sucked on the earlobe.

Knowing that Vanessa would crack. 

_She always did._

“Please, fuck me.” The magic words. 

Brooke added another finger. Working hard and fast, knowing by the whiny quality of Vanessa’s voice that she was close. 

Very close. 

A part of Brooke wanted to drag it out, but the worried voice in the back of her mind was getting louder. It was slowly getting to Brooke that they were in a public place, that they were being stupid. 

So she decided to not hold back, to give Vanessa what she asked for, lightly pressing her thumb down on her clit.

“Ask me.” Brooke couldn’t recognise her own voice, the raw and gritty sound so alien to her, that it felt like an out of body experience. 

As if it wasn’t actually her doing any of this. 

“Please… Please make me come, please!” Vanessa didn’t have a care in the world, the words falling over each other, her head thrashing back and forth against the door, her eyes closed.

_She looked beautiful._

Brooke twisted her fingers just so, her thumb pressing down, knowing exactly how to play Vanessa’s body as if she was a beautiful instrument and she was the musician.

The moment she felt Vanessa tighten around her fingers, Brooke quickly raised her other hand to cover her mouth. She was loud - always had been, and the fact that they were in a public toilet hadn’t escaped Brooke’s attention for a single minute.

They had to keep quiet. 

As Brooke helped her ride out the waves of her orgasm, she felt herself drowning.

Nausea making itself known at the back of her throat, as she looked down at the blissed-out look on Vanessa’s face.

What had she done?

_What the **fuck** had she just done?_

* * *

**_6th of December 2015, New York, NY_ **

Brooke was annoyed as she was almost dragged down the street by a cheerful Vanessa. Everything inside of her yearned to get back to their apartment. She had a variation to rehearse, and every hour spent on something else was wasted. 

Not that Vanessa cared a bit about that, as she had simply dragged her away from her music and forced her into regular clothes, saying that they needed to leave the apartment. 

That had been 30 minutes ago, and she still hadn’t told her where they were going. 

It was getting on her nerves, the itch to go back and go over the moves taking over Brooke’s every thought. 

“Where are we going? I have stuff to do, ‘Nessa!” She knew that she sounded like a petulant child, but didn’t care one bit. 

She was auditioning for a part at NYC ballet, and she needed to impress them, not wanting to let down all of the people who expected her to get in. 

She needed to be perfect. 

And she wasn’t doing that by walking around aimlessly when she could have been practising. 

“You ain’t doin’ shit. I swear if I gots to listen to that cha-cha-chovsky piece of music one more time ‘cause your ballerina ass wants to perfecter something that already at 100%, I’mma scream louder than the last time you made me come.” Vanessa came to a stop, pointing a single finger up at Brooke, her eyes narrowed in a way that she clearly thought was threatening.

Not knowing that it was the most adorable thing that Brooke had ever looked at. 

“That would be… Impressive,” Brooke remembered last night vividly, and she also remembered the sour look she received from their neighbour that morning as she went on an early run. 

If Vanessa could scream like that again - unprovoked - Brooke would indeed be very impressed. 

“Behave, Mami!” Vanessa lightly shoved her shoulder, her eyes glittering with amusement, while her lips were trying very hard to fight against the smile that wanted to break free. 

She dragged Brooke after her and pushed the door open into a Starbucks that Brooke knew well. 

It was their Starbucks. 

Vanessa went up to order, clearly wanting Brooke to find them a table, though she had hoped that they would take the beverages to go. Everything inside of her buzzing, needing her to return to their apartment now. 

Judging by the way that Vanessa kept on sending her looks, there was no hope of that happening anytime soon. 

Sighing, Brooke found a table by the window, knowing how much her girlfriend loved to people watch, and how much Brooke loved watching her do that. 

“Here you go, babe.” Placing a huge, white cup filled to the brim with hot chocolate, whipped cream, and tiny marshmallows, Vanessa looked at Brooke with a beautiful smile.

Brooke just felt sick to her stomach. 

“‘Ness, I can’t. That’s too heavy. You know I only drink matcha… The amount of calories in the whipped cream alone is enough to-” 

“Brooke. Baby. You don’t need to watch shit. So now you gon sit that amazing booty down, and you gon enjoy it and say ‘Thank you, Miss Vanjie,’” Vanessa looked at her sharply, this particular subject the one that they had discussed many times, Brooke always focusing on her food, always tracking that she didn’t overload her body. 

Ballet was a sport where you could easily become too heavy, and given Brooke’s height, she was already at a disadvantage. 

Not that Vanessa cared a single bit about that, her eyes all steel, as she waited for Brooke to answer her. 

With a large sigh, she moved the mug closer, knowing that there was no way to win against a determined Vanessa. 

“Thank you, Miss Vanjie.” She knew she sounded sour, as she looked at the calorie bomb in front of her. 

“Cut the tone, Mami.” The way she laughed, told Brooke that Vanessa wasn’t actually angry at her, just worried. 

Which was fair, Brooke had turned into a machine the last couple of weeks, her mind so focused on doing the variation perfectly, which in itself was idiotic - no one could reach perfection in ballet. 

All they could do was hope to reach the coveted 99% accuracy. That last percent would forever be elusive. 

And Brooke wasn’t an idiot, she knew that her talent wasn’t good enough for the Bolshoi. Her perfect was perhaps closer to 90%. 

But she wasn’t there yet. 

Taking a sip from the mug, everything inside of her hummed in satisfaction at the rich chocolate taste. 

It was as if her whole body took a moment to just be.

To relax and forget everything about ballet, music, pained limbs, and long days. 

“This is good.” Licking her lips she looked over at Vanessa, who was smiling softly at her. Brooke had noticed the way that she had started to look more and more worried with every day that passed with Brooke’s ridiculous schedule of practice. 

She knew that she was working herself too hard.

“Yeah… Someone once told me that hot cocoa always works on stressful messes like you and me.” The words instantly took Brooke back to that time she had done the same for Vanessa. 

Fuck, she had remembered that? 

“You remember that?” The words felt too large, her heart too full of love, and Brooke felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. 

Shit, she must’ve been exhausted, if that got her all teary-eyed. 

“'Course I do, baby.” Vanessa grabbed Brooke’s hand on the table, looking her directly in the eye, her soft expression once again underlining Brooke’s luck in being together with her. “Of course I do,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So any thoughts?


	7. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bitch, I am freezing so much my tits could cut through glass, walls, and diamonds.” The words made Brooke’s eyes unwillingly look at Vanessa's covered breasts before she caught herself. 
> 
> This crush thing on Vanessa was getting ridiculous. 
> 
> “So you came here, because?” Brooke twirled around in her chair, still not understanding the reasoning behind Vanessa’s sudden entrance. 
> 
> “Because you an icy bitch, and I thought that shit might negate the coldness, the whole minus minus be plus or whatever.” More of Vanessa emerged from the sea of blankets as she tried to explain, using her hands and her whole body.

**_7th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

There was something to be said about putting on stage makeup, the way it turned her into someone else.

Someone better. 

The way the white powder covered her in a cloud of make-believe and fairy tales - taking her from an overworked dancer to a full-on fairy. 

It was magical, and it was needed. 

Brooke’s head was still trying to grasp the fact that she saw Vanessa yesterday. 

_The way her lips had tasted_

Softly adding the wing to her eyeliner, Brooke tried to concentrate on the now. 

_The way her body had arched against her._

It was proving difficult.

Putting down the eyeliner for a moment, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and willing herself to just let everything about yesterday go. 

Needing to find the correct headspace.   
  
“Is that a hickey?” Violet’s loud voice almost made Brooke groan out loud. 

_Was the universe out to get her?_

“Holy shit, Hytes. It is! You’ve gone out last night?” The sound of the door closing behind Violet made Brooke look over at her. 

Violet was dressed in a sleek black dress. Gone was the prim and proper ballerina from today’s martinée performance, and in her place was the gorgeous and almost dangerous socialite, Violet Amrull.

It never ceased to amaze Brooke that Violet not only managed to have a life outside of her job but that also she managed to do it well.

Just one more aspect in life where Brooke fell short.

“No, that’s not wh-” Looking back into the mirror, she noticed a hint of a hickey, cursing Vanessa silently in her head as she started to carefully cover it with concealer. 

Hating that Violet had been the one to notice it. 

“I know that look.” Violet clearly didn’t care for her excuses, already having decided upon culprit for Brooke’s mental and physical state. 

“No, you don’t,” Brooke ignored Violet, going over her makeup, ensuring that everything was perfect. 

In the corner of her eye, she could see Violet walking closer to her, sleeking her way over to the mirror. 

“That’s a Vanessa Mateo Look.” She hated how well Violet knew her. Hated that she had been privy to their relationship back when it had all been good. 

Because she was right. 

“That doesn’t exist.” Not that Brooke would ever admit that out loud. Especially not to Violet of all people. 

Putting on the last layer of powder on the now covered hickey, Brooke tried to ignore her. Her focus instead placed on wanting to ensure that no one in the audience would ever be able to notice the imperfection on her skin.

“It does, it’s here, I am looking at it.” Brooke gritted her teeth, trying to quelch the annoyance that was brewing inside of her. She didn’t need Violet’s mingling. 

Didn’t need more people to relish in the countless way that Brooke could manage to fuck up her love life. 

“No, you’re not.” Brooke kept her focus on the mirror, summoning every last bit of willpower she had to keep her voice even and uninterested. 

Aware that it was useless against the all-knowingness of Violet. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you guys didn’t have sex last night.” Brooke turned on her chair, looking Violet straight in the eye, forcing her face and voice to sound as devoid of emotion as she could. 

“We didn’t have sex last night.” 

Which was technically true as they’d bumped into each other around 4 PM. 

“What about just yesterday, then?” Violet’s eyes traced Brooke’s expression, trying to find the crack. 

Her smile widened at Brooke opened her mouth to answer, only to have no words come out, the lie stuck somewhere in her throat. 

“An afternoon delight? God, this is so old school Brooke, I love it,” Violet’s laughter only strengthened as Brooke flipped her off. “She showed up at the apartment?” Violet leaned her hip against the long table in the dressing room, her arms crossed, while her eyes were shining with a mixture of mirth and a thirst for gossip. 

_Brooke hadn’t even told Nina yet._

“No, we bumped into each other outside a Starbucks.” Brooke winced at the high pitch laugh from Violet. 

“Oh, God.” 

“Don’t-”

"I can't believe I get to experience 2015 Brooke all over again. She was so wonderfully messy." Trust Violet to delight this mess as she stood there looking flawless, while Brooke was barely holding herself together. 

Yesterday seemed like some weird out of body experience. They way they had awkwardly parted ways right after they had finished. 

No goodbye.

_Nothing._

Brooke shook her head as she quickly looked up at the clock, realising that she needed to let all this go for the time being - she had a performance to think about. An audience to wow. 

And most importantly. 

_She needed Violet to leave her alone._

“Go home to your husband, you insufferable harpy.” Turning back to the mirror, she gave herself a last once over, wanting to be perfect.

“By the way?” Violet walked closer, grabbing something from the table, ending up behind Brooke. 

“Yeah?” 

“Those tulips you got?” Violet’s left hand reached out and touched a lock of Brooke’s hair, holding it down, while she secured it with a hairpin from her other hand, “they were from her.” Violet smiled gleefully at her and kissed her cheek lightly. 

And then she left. 

The quiet sound of the door closing behind her didn’t register with Brooke who was frozen on the chair, her mind drawing a complete blank as she tried to decipher Violet’s words. 

_Why would Vanessa send her any flowers?_

* * *

**_8th of February 2013, New York, NY_ **

_The door to Brooke’s dorm room burst open, startling her, as she was head deep into her dance theory book. Vanessa tried to force her way through the door with her arms filled with multiple blankets and a plastic bag that had a snacky rattle to it._

_The door shut loudly behind her, as Vanessa jumped onto Brooke’s unoccupied bed, huddling underneath covers without ever acknowledging Brooke’s presence._

_“And hello to you,” Brooke didn’t even try to sound annoyed, as she looked over at Vanessa, the only thing visible being her face, everything else covered in fussy blankets and layers of sweaters and thick leggings._

_“Bitch, I am freezing so much my tits could cut through glass, walls, and diamonds.” The words made Brooke’s eyes unwillingly look at Vanessa's covered breasts before she caught herself._

_This crush thing on Vanessa was getting ridiculous._

_“So you came here, because?” Brooke twirled around in her chair, still not understanding the reasoning behind Vanessa’s sudden entrance._

_“Because you an icy bitch, and I thought that shit might negate the coldness, the whole minus minus be plus or whatever.” More of Vanessa emerged from the sea of blankets as she tried to explain, using her hands and her whole body._

_A fond smile made its way onto Brooke’s lips without permission._

_“Ness, I don’t think that’s how it works.” Brooke got up from her chair, walking over to the bed, where Vanessa scooter over, making space for her on the tiny single bed._

_“Look, my math teacher in fourth grade, Ms Johnson, told me that, and homegirl ain’t ever done me wrong before. You saying Ms J is lying, Brooke? You want to do my girl that dirty?” The barely contained laughter in Vanessa’s voice was enough to send Brooke into a fit of giggles._

_The snowstorm howling outside didn’t really matter when Brooke got to look into those big brown eyes, drowning in their warmth._

_Vanessa took Brooke’s laugh as acceptance, as she proceeded to unload the contents of the plastic bag, presenting her with chocolate, chips, and caramels._

_Brooke tried to quiet down the calorie calculator inside her head, knowing that Vanessa would flip if she mentioned anything about needing to be careful._

_It was just one evening._

_It would be fine._

_The last thing Vanessa grabbed from the bag was ‘The Notebook’ on DVD._

_It looked worn, the plastic covering bent and torn._

_Vanessa didn’t leave any room for argument as she ordered Brooke to grab her laptop and quickly set it all up._

_Once that was done, she started arranging everything. Pushing Brooke this way and that, using the blankets to create some type of nest._

_Brooke couldn’t stop the smile on lips, the familiarity with which Vanessa touched her, warming her heart._

_“Okay, we good to go.” With those words, she cuddled up close to Brooke and started the movie._

_Brooke’s heart was beating faster than normal as she looked down at the girl in her arms._

_She could get used to this._

* * *

_**7th of December 2019, New York, NY** _

“Miss Vanjie, Vanjie, Vanjie Bitch, gracing us with her presence?” The loud yell echoed, as Vanjie entered the rehearsal studio, all the other dancers stretching and talking. 

_Of course, she was last._

“Shut up, Daniel.” Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t keep up the anger, Daniel’s waggling brows and contagious smile too precious. 

This was the distraction she sorely needed. 

Her head having been filled up with Brooke, Brooke, Brooke. 

In fact, if she hadn’t noticed the bruise on her hip, clearly from having been held too tightly, Vanjie would’ve thought that she had made the whole thing up. 

It was so un-Brooke to go from saying hello to fucking to leaving. 

_But so very like them._

“Where were you yesterday? Huh? You too good for us regular-ass dancers, going back to your Ballerina buddies?” Daniel’s teasing question sent Vanjie’s mind down a dangerous memory lane. 

The way Brooke had known exactly how to touch her.

How to make her moan. 

How she had used every trick in the book. 

Made her come harder than she had since…

_The last time that they’d had sex._

“Vanj? Are you there?” Daniel’s voice brought her back to the present, his eyes were slightly worried despite the small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah. Nah, I just went and got myself reacq-request… up to date on the down-low of the city, ya know? Gotta keep it tight with my Juilliard bitches!”

Especially one particular bitch with long legs, blonde hair, and dangerously blue eyes. 

“Right, ready for tonight?” The worry in his eyes had faded somewhat, though Vanjie knew that he would probably prod some more, try to figure out what was up. 

Hopefully, he wouldn’t succeed. 

“Baby, I was born so ready, hoes be thinking I'm Maybelline or something.” Hopefully the performance tonight would make all the thoughts disappear. 

The sheer rush of getting to perform with Rihanna for 26 shows still not really registering with Vanjie. 

She wouldn’t let anything ruin that high. 

_Not even Brooke._

Not that Brooke would ever do that knowingly.

Taking a deep breath and putting her bag on a chair, she walked over to start stretching, realising that the ache in her thighs had less to do with the rehearsals from yesterday, and more to do with a certain toilet at a stupid Starbucks. 

_She was so fucked._

* * *

_**19th of November 2018, New York, NY** _

_Benjamin, The director from L.A. Dance Project had dropped by. Quietly observing everyone at the studio._

_He hadn’t said anything, only looking and nodding._

_Vanjie had noticed the way his eyes had lingered on her, the smile of approval whenever he looked at her movements._

_That had been two weeks ago, and she had heard no word. Shuga had told her that she needed to be patient, that Rome wasn’t shablamed in a day or something._

_It hadn’t stopped Vanjie from contemplating moving back to Los Angeles._

_Hadn’t stopped her from going over her account trying to figure out if she could even afford it._

_Not that she had told Brooke._

_Sitting on the couch in their apartment, Vanjie felt the all-consuming guilt. She felt wrong and dirty for not telling Brooke anything, for continuously going behind her back._

_She felt wrong for looking at one-room apartments, knowing that she was indirectly expecting to live there alone._

_She loved their apartment. Loved their life._

_Loved Brooke._

_But the problem was that Brooke was never home anymore. She was always working, her laser focus intensely set on reaching Prima. They both knew that it was close, knew that Brooke had it in the bag._

_That knowledge only seemed to make Brooke work that much harder, her anxiety taking over, telling Brooke that complacency would result in failure._

_Vanjie knew the drill, knew that her girlfriend was a mess on the best of days, but that she tried._

_Tried so hard._

_And still..._

_Brooke’s first love would always be ballet, and Vanjie would always come second._

_That had been the terms of their relationship, and Vanjie truly thought that she had been okay with that, but sitting here all alone in their apartment, she was reminded of the fact that this would be her life._

_Lonely days and lonelier nights._

_Brooke would always give one more minute, one more stretch to hopefully come that bit closer to perfection._

_The soft snow falling outside the window made Vanjie wrinkle her nose. Once upon a time she had loved it, the white dots of snow. She had marvelled at the beauty of it all, at the innocence._

_Vanjie remembered that she once thought that Brooke’s frozen exterior coupled with the iciness of New York would turn into a warmth she could cover herself with._

_That had been then._

_Now she knew that minus plus minus only gave a coldness that went deeper than her bones, straight into her heart where it festered and grew._

_She needed warmth in her life._

_And it didn’t seem like New York would deliver that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read, comment and kudos. It honestly means the world! <3


	8. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Coffee?” Brooke’s voice rang out from the kitchen, Vanjie startled that she hadn’t even noticed that Brooke had left her alone in the living room. 
> 
> “Thought you only drank that green icky stuff?” Vanjie wrinkled her forehead, confused. Brooke had always made a big deal out of Vanjie’s habit of drinking her own weight in coffee, citing stupid articles deeming caffeine one of the worst things for a dancer’s body. 
> 
> “Yeah, but you alwa-” Even though she cut herself off, Vanjie knew what she wanted to say, filling in the blanks. 
> 
> “Sure, B. Coffee sounds nice.” She could imagine the way that Brooke was probably hitting her head against the cupboards in the kitchen. 

_**8th of December 2019, New York, NY** _

The door looked the same. There were no new scratches, no marks to show the passing of time since Vanjie had last stood in front of it. 

Even the doormat was the same generic light grey thing that Brooke had bought at Target on a whim. 

The only big difference was the single name next to the door. If Vanjie looked closely, she could see the leftover adhesive still sticking to the tiny plate, the only reminder that ‘Vanessa Mateo’ had once, too, lived in this apartment with ‘Brooke L. Hytes’. 

Vanjie knew it wasn’t fair, but it hurt to see how easy it had been to remove her, to simply erase her from the place she had called home for three years. 

It was Brooke’s apartment now. 

_Not theirs._

Taking a deep breath she found the courage to knock on the door, everything inside of her feeling odder than Oz, realising that it was the first time she’s ever had to knock on this particular door. 

She knew that Brooke was at home tonight. 

Violet had sent her a scathing and dry text, telling her that “ _the real talent was performing tonight_ ”, probably as a way to Vanjie that she needed to woman up and talk with her ex. 

A’keria had all but thrown her out of the flat, saying that she needed to use her day off on something useful.

_"It’s so typical you two to sex first and talk after, c’mon Vanj, this ain’t Julliard no more."_

The sudden sound of the door unlocking made Vanjie jump, Brooke opening the door, her face tired.

She was wearing yoga pants paired with a big and bulky sweater, her hair all over the place, and face remarkably free from any hint of makeup. 

She looked worn. 

_She looked absolutely stunning._

“Hey…” Vanjie did a stupid little wave that made her insides crumble, feeling like a pre-schooler as she did it. 

Brooke kept on blinking, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open, the classic look of a Brooke Lynn Hytes caught off guard. 

“Hello.” The formality of the greeting instantly caught Vanjie off guard, the way Brooke’s eyes coldly looked her up and down, her face hidden behind the indifferent mask that Vanjie had witnessed so many times, but had never been at the receiving end of. 

She did not like it one bit. 

The silence continued. Vanjie didn’t know what to say - part of her still wasn’t even sure why she had decided to show up there unannounced. 

She hoped that Brooke would take pity on her, would be kind enough to let her inside the warmth of the apartment instead of standing outside in the hallway like some lost trick or treater. 

Thankfully, Brooke was in the charitable mood, as she silently opened the door wider, inviting Vanjie in. 

Crossing the threshold, she felt like she had transported back in time. Everything looked the same. 

_Everything._

Vanjie could still clock the empty spaces left behind by her own things. Fuck, the hanger for her coat was still empty. 

_Shit._

Vanjie couldn’t decide if the sight made her happy or if she wanted to cry angry tears. It looked as if Brooke had simply been waiting for her to come back.

Or had given up of trying to make the place her own. 

Either way, it was terrifying. Like some weird-ass museum piece of their life together. 

A frame on the table caught her eye, her heart clenched painfully as she recognised it. 

_The wrapping paper._

The only piece of Christmas decoration in the whole room. She had kept it. 

_ Oh, Brooke.  _

Blinking quickly, Vanjie tried to keep the tears at bay. She had not expected this, had not expected Brooke to be living in a place dedicated to the past. 

It made her want to cry. 

“Coffee?” Brooke’s voice rang out from the kitchen, Vanjie startled that she hadn’t even noticed that Brooke had left her alone in the living room. 

“Thought you only drank that green icky stuff?” Vanjie wrinkled her forehead, confused. Brooke had always made a big deal out of Vanjie’s habit of drinking her own weight in coffee, citing stupid articles deeming caffeine one of the worst things for a dancer’s body. 

“Yeah, but you alwa-” Even though she cut herself off, Vanjie knew what she wanted to say, filling in the blanks. 

“Sure, B. Coffee sounds nice.” She could imagine the way that Brooke was probably hitting her head against the cupboards in the kitchen. 

Casting one last glance at that framed wrapping paper, her stomach doing death drops in a mix of excitement and disbelief, she walked into the kitchen.

_They clearly had to talk._

* * *

**_26th of December 2018, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie was still shook. The call had not been what she had expected in any way. It had been over a month since Benjamin had been by, scouting new talent, and then no word._

_Vanjie was used to scouts dropping by, Shuga’s studio had a reputation of taking in some of the best from Julliard, it was just…_

_None of the scouts had ever been interested in Vanjie._

_It was always everyone else. Asia, Kameron, Plastique. All of them had left, and here was Vanjie. Two years after graduating and still not deemed interesting outside of NYC._

_Until now._

_She had been offered a place at the LA Dance Project. Her._

_Starting in the new year. Everything inside of her was caught between excitement and horror. This was her chance to move on up, to focus on her own career._

_But Brooke._

_She was so close to Prima. They all knew it. It seemed more like a formality than anything else that it hadn’t been officiated at this point._

_She couldn’t leave New York. There was no way._

_And well, Vanjie had an offer in LA._

_The front door opened and Brooke lit up the whole apartment, for once there were no tired lines to find on her face, her smile bright and her eyes clear. It had been ages since Vanjie had seen her look like that, and it only served to make the knot in her stomach bigger._

_When was the last time that she had seen her girlfriend happy?_

_“Good session?” Sitting on the couch, Vanjie leaned her head up, making it easier for Brooke to place a soft kiss._

_“Yeah, it went really well,” Brooke smiled, sitting down next to Vanjie, taking her hand in hers, making the guilty knot in Vanjie’s stomach grow._

_Shit, she really had to be the one to wipe off that smile on Brooke’s lips._

_Fuck._

_“So, there’s something I-”_

_“We needs to talk, Mami,”_

_The spoke at the same time, Brooke sounding excited while Vanjie knew her voice was more serious. The way that Brooke’s smile seemed to fall just a bit, made it clear to Vanjie that she was hiding nothing._

_“Oh. Right. Uhm, you go first,” Brooke’s nervousness showed itself in the way that her free hand was playing with a loose string on her sweater. Trying to distract herself from what she could clearly tell probably wouldn’t be good news._

_“Shit, I…” Vanjie wanted to ignore it all. She didn’t want to have this conversation, knowing that it would probably end in a fight, but she had to. “I’ve gotten a job,”_

_She wanted to cringe at her wording, seeing the way Brooke’s eyes brightened up with the power of a 1000 suns._

_Fuck._

_“Oh my God, babe! I am so happy for you! Where is it?” Brooke’s hand tightened its grip on hers, forcing Vanjie to look her straight in the eye._

_Vanjie knew that she just had to say it. Even if it would break Brooke’s heart, even if she had been a coward for not telling Brooke about any of this before now._

_She couldn’t look Brooke in the eye, choosing instead to focus on their clasped hands._

_“Los Angeles.” The silence that followed those words were louder than a scream. It felt as if the whole world had stopped._

_The only sound was their breathing, as Vanjie felt Brooke’s hand tremble slightly in their hold._

_“LA?” The soft whisper forced Vanjie to look up. “As in California?” The sight she was met with broke her heart. Brooke looked confused, her brow wrinkling as her eyes searched Vanjie’s face, trying to figure out if this was a joke._

_Trying to make sense out of something Vanjie knew wouldn’t make any. She wanted to tell Brooke about the last year, wanted to let her know how lonely she’d felt._

_Vanjie wanted to explain everything, but the words were lodged somewhere deep inside of her, unwilling to come out, so instead-_

_She merely nodded._

_“Oh… Oh.” Vanjie instantly clocked the wall that Brooke built around herself at that moment. The way that her eyes turned cold, while her hand let go of Vanjie’s._

_Shaking her head softly, a small and hard laugh escaped her lips, Brooke got up from the couch, not deigning Vanjie a single look._

_“Brooke, lis-”_

_“Were you going to tell me that you’ve been looking at jobs on the other side of the fucking country, or was I supposed to find out the day you suddenly weren’t here?” Brooke wasn’t yelling. Her words were quietly spoken into the room._

_Vanjie wished that she was yelling._

_This felt like she had already given up on them._

_“No, really. What was your plan? Was I included?” The words tasted sour, making Vanjie’s blood boil in a way that she knew wasn’t fair._

_But all that anger at being number two, at never seeing her girlfriend anymore, at being lesser, was spilling out of her, and she had no chance of stopping it now._

_“You’re never home anyway. I’m just here doing fuck all, while you always be jumpin’, dancing, and tuttin’ all over that stage.” Vanjie had jumped up from the couch, not wanting to feel looked down upon, Brooke cutting an intimidating figure as she stood completely still in the middle of the living room._

_“So you’re saying it’s my fault then? That I am driving you away because I am working too much?” Brooke’s voice cracked a bit, the sign of emotion making Vanjie’s heart break._

_Fuck._

_This was not how this conversation was supposed to go._

_“I ain’t sayin’ that.” Though a small voice inside of her was telling her, that she was._

_The unimpressed look on Brooke’s face told her that she agreed with the voice._

_“Then what?”_

_“I just be sayin’ that we don’t even get to see each other anymore. You never here.” Vanjie felt like a child, feeling ridiculous for not being able to deal with the fact that Brooke had a career._

_That Brooke had a passion that she wanted and needed to work on. Every. Day._

_“So you just decided to move to LA because I’m not here?” Brooke’s eyes were starting to get wet, Vanjie could tell that she was fighting so hard against the tears. “Without talking it over with me, or even telling me that you were unhappy with our life… with me. Great. Fucking perfect, Vanessa.” Brooke grabbed her keys from the table, her whole body almost shaking with anger._

_Vanjie could feel the panic rise inside of her. This was not going the way she wanted._

_“Brooke, c’mon.” She tried to keep her voice calm, wanting - no needing - Brooke to stay and talk this over with her._

_“Guess those five years meant nothing, good to know, Ness.” The words hurt, while the usage of her nickname gave her hope._

_Brooke had walked over to the front door and was putting her shoes back on with a lack of precision that spoke volumes of her anger._

_“Are you leaving?” Vanjie couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice. Brooke couldn’t leave, not now._

_They needed to talk._

_“I am going to say something I regret if I stay.” Brooke looked at her for a moment, her eyes soft, despite the rigidity of her whole body. “I’ll be back later. I just need a moment, Ness.” Vanjie wanted to make her stay._

_But she knew Brooke was right. They both had a tendency to let their tempers take control, saying harsh and cutting words that couldn’t be taken back._

_This was an important conversation._

_So Vanjie nodded at Brooke._

_The sound of the door closing didn’t nothing to cover the sound of Vanjie’s crying._

_She knew how this would turn out._

_Had known ever since she had started looking at L.A._

_That this was probably the end._

* * *

**_8th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Having Vanessa back in the apartment felt correct as if that one missing piece had suddenly been found again. Brooke had never truly noted how cold her home had felt until Vanessa was there to fill it up with all her warmth and presence. 

As she had walked into the kitchen, taking the offered cup of coffee from Brooke’s extended hand, Vanessa looked her directly in the eye, her expression somewhat confused. 

“It looks the same.” Brooke managed to keep herself from flinching, Vanessa’s words only underlining the fact that Brooke hadn’t moved on. 

She couldn’t, however, stop herself from letting the spite infuse her tone. 

“Well, it’s not like I am ever really home.” Not that it wasn’t true, she seemed to spend more time at the studio than anywhere else, but then again, she had nothing to keep her at home anymore. Nothing to ground her to a life outside of pliés and variations on pointe shoes. 

“Brooke…” 

“Don’t, it’s not like you weren’t right,” Brooke waved her off, not wanting to get into this conversation, even though it was clear from the way that Vanessa had opened her mouth that she wanted to interrupt Brooke and continue that topic. “Why are you here?” Brooke decided to distract her.

Clearly succeeding, as Vanessa’s eyes turned incredulous, brow wrinkling in confusion. 

“Like you don’t know.” Brooke certainly had an inkling, but she needed to hear the words. 

And maybe, just maybe… She wanted Vanessa to be the one to start this conversation. 

“I know you’re here with Rihanna, I meant more in terms of being here, in the apartment.” Vanjie was gaping at her, slightly shaking her head, as if she couldn’t believe that Brooke was trying to be so blasé about what happened two days earlier. 

She really shouldn’t be surprised. Brooke had an MA in ignoring her feelings. 

“Because of whatever the fuck that was at the café.” Brooke leaned back against the kitchen table, casually taking a sip of her tea, letting the warmth flow through her body, while she let Vanessa stew. 

“Right…” If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t that Brooke didn’t want to talk about what had happened, but rather that she didn’t see the point in it. 

“We going to discuss that?” 

What good would talking do, if all they achieved would be status quo? 

“Should we? You’re only here for a couple of days and then you’re leaving again. And I think we’ve established time and time again that the only thing I’ve got going on is my job,” Brooke tried to keep her voice indifferent, even though she could feel her heart contracting at the words. 

The wound still there, still open, still raw. Even a year later. 

“Jesus, Brooke. Why you’ve gotta act like-” Vanessa cut herself off as she put her cup down on the table, looking at Brooke with searching eyes, her whole body vibrating, looking like she wanted to shake Brooke. 

Why? She was only telling the truth. 

“Like what?” Brooke tried to mirror Vanessa’s stance, her mug placed somewhere behind her on the table. 

She could feel the air shift, the way that both of them had tensed up. 

“Like you ain’t worth anythin’?” 

“Because I wasn’t worth it last time,” Brooke spoke matter of factly. It was a truth that she lived by. It wasn’t Vanessa’s fault, she was just the last in a long line of people who had continued to prove that Brooke was not worth staying for. 

_Her dad, her mom, her friends back home… Vanessa._

Vanessa’s eyes softened for a moment, her mouth opening as if she wanted to argue against Brooke, even though they both knew that she was right. 

_She hadn’t been enough._

Vanessa’s eyes flickered from Brooke’s eyes to her mouth, staying on her mouth for a second too long.

The whole room felt electrified. Maybe it was because Vanessa looked so right back in the apartment, maybe it was because Brooke needed this conversation to end before it turned too real and too painful. 

Or maybe it was because she had missed Vanessa with every fibre of her being, the sudden closeness of her warming her heart in a way that it hadn’t been for a year. 

Either way, Brooke took two strides and caught her lips in a searing kiss. The slight hint of coffee on her lips tasting like long nights of studying, Monday afternoons, and perfect weekends. 

_They could talk later._

* * *

**_26th of December 2018, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke had left the apartment to dance. The hard wooden floor usually her best companion when she needed to vent her feelings._

_She had sneaked in the back door, dodging and hiding, needing to be alone with her thoughts and her hurt._

_Hoping that she could dance it all out to make sense of the mess that her life had become._

_Except. She hadn’t._

_She was still sitting on the cold floor, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t want to dance. She didn’t want to do anything._

_Vanessa’s words were going in circles inside her mind. The way her eyes had been sad, the way she had tried to keep her anger down._

_All the unspoken truths that had been hanging in the air until they attached themselves to Brooke, burying deep until they became a part of her DNA._

_Brooke knew that she sacrificed time with Vanessa for ballet. Knew that most of her waking hours were spent on becoming a better ballerina instead of focusing on her girlfriend and her wellbeing._

_She knew this._

_Had realised it long ago._

_That was why she arranged for the trip to Paris. She had wanted to give Vanessa a gift that meant more than just a simple necklace. She had wanted them to go out and spend time together, talk with each other and perhaps find a way to make all of this work._

_Brooke knew that she was a mess of anxiety and perfectionism. Knew that she was the one taking a back seat ride in their relationship, while Vanessa was doing all the work._

_She wanted to be better for her._

_She had hoped that the trip could result in them turning over a new leaf._

_Seemed that she was too late._

_Classic Brooke. Really. Always the last to realise that she had fucked up beyond repair. She had bought an engagement ring and a trip to Paris, while Vanessa had been looking at dance companies in LA._

_At the other side of the country._

_If that wasn’t a sign that Vanessa wanted out, then what was?_

_Fuck._

_She had really messed it all up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have a whole ass chapter of the idiots being idiots in the past and the present.


	9. Bows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soft sound of feet treading over the floor made her look up, and for a moment the world stopped. 
> 
> Vanessa.
> 
> She was wearing only one of Brooke's oversized t-shirts. Her hair messy, eyes squinting at her through her sleepy state. 
> 
> She looked perfect.
> 
> For a second Brooke felt every cell in her body, almost as if everything clicked into place like her body had found what it had been missing all this time. 
> 
> Brooke wanted to savour the moment, wanted to store it in her mind for later when she would inevitably be left all alone. 

**_9th of December, New York, NY_ **

Monday mornings had always been Brooke’s favourite. The start of a new week, the chance to set a new goal and accomplish something better than the last always managing to put a big smile on her face. 

Looking over her schedule, however, it became clear that this week would be less hectic, less filled. She only had three shows, which was less than ideal. 

She had truly hoped that she would be so busy that she didn’t have any time to think about everything that was going on. 

Instead of having a week filled with dance, train, perform, sleep, repeat, she would be left alone with her thoughts.

The soft sound of feet treading over the floor made her look up, and for a moment the world stopped. 

_Vanessa._

She was wearing only one of Brooke's oversized t-shirts. Her hair messy, eyes squinting at her through her sleepy state. 

She looked perfect.

For a second Brooke felt every cell in her body, almost as if everything clicked into place like her body had found what it had been missing all this time. 

Brooke wanted to savour the moment, wanted to store it in her mind for later when she would inevitably be left all alone. 

But at the same time, she wanted to push it away. She knew that Vanessa was here only for a short while, leaving sooner, rather than later.

If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure that she would survive the heartbreak all over again.

_No._

It was better to just enjoy it while it lasted and keep her distance. 

Silently, she pointed at the cup of coffee on the kitchen counter, having made it less than 10 minutes ago when she heard the first signs of life from the bedroom. 

The groan of approval that left Vanessa’s mouth as she puttered her way over to the table sent shivers down her spine. 

_Jesus, get your mind out of the gutter._

“I lov-... thank you.” They both looked at each other for a moment, Vanessa’s almost slip-up hanging in the air, waiting for one of them to grasp and start the conversation that they clearly needed to have. 

_Not now, though._

Brooke knew that a sleepy Vanessa had trouble speaking, let alone understanding anything with emotional depth before her first cup of coffee. 

She had probably meant nothing by it. 

“When do you have to leave?” Brooke decided to steer the conversation to a safer topic, as Vanessa gulped her coffee down like it was water rather than a hot beverage.

“We gots rehearsals at noon and then it’s show numero dos!” Vanessa couldn’t hide a small grimace as the words left her lips. Her bravado seemed forced, less of the “Miss Vanjie fierceness” that Brooke had come to know.

_Oh._

“Don’t” 

“Don’t what, B?”

“I know that face. It’s your 'I’m not good enough to be on that stage' face. Which is ridiculous. You slayed it at the first show and you’ll slay it tonight.” Brooke had read the reviews, seen pictures and videos. She knew that Vanessa had been spectacular. 

But she also knew that her ex had a tendency to sell herself short, a side effect of having been surrounded by ballerinas for four years. 

Anything but perfection was not satisfactory. 

“Like you know anything’,” Vanessa muttered the words at she walked over to her, leaning against Brooke like this was early 2018 and they hadn’t been apart at all. 

Her touch sent tantalising shock waves up and down her arm. Brooke kept completely still, afraid any movement would scare Vanessa away, as she leaned her head quietly against Brooke’s shoulder.

“Oh, I know.” Brooke looked down at her with conviction, waiting patiently until Vanessa looked back up at her. “I’ve always known that you were too good for New York.” 

Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise, though a curtain of disbelief soon seemed to cover them.

“You just being kind,” the quiet whisper made Brooke smile wryly as she cupped Vanessa cheek, softly running her thumb over the smooth skin. 

“When it comes to dancing, I’ve _never_ been kind.” 

* * *

**11th of March 2013, New York, NY**

_Spring dance rehearsals were gruelling, especially as a first-year. Brooke remembered how she had been shaking like a leaf right before she went on stage. How everyone had sent her side eyes and snarky comments._

_Madame Edwards has chosen her as Prima and none of those bitches had let it go. Even now, as she was walking down the hall of the rehearsal studios, Brooke caught the way that she was being looked up and down, everyone closing rank, scared that Brooke was there to take over their spot._

_A ridiculous notion, since everybody was working on contemporary dance at the moment, and Brooke knew that she was mediocre at that._

_On her best of days._

_As she opened the door to the last studio, she was hit by a low electro beat that seemed to beat in sync with her heart beat._

_And there, together with ten unknown people, was Vanessa._

_Gliding across the floor in a way that seemed more natural than breathing. Every inch of her body was music. From her fingertips to her toes._

_She was breathtaking._

_Vanessa's raw talent was something to behold, the way she outshone everybody else of her group because she meant every moment._

_Not because she had practiced more than everybody else, but because she had no other way of dancing._

_The lightness and sheer joy that Vanessa exuded was something Brooke would never be able to replicate._

_As the song cut off, everyone on the floor wiped their brows and walked off the side, all-knowing that they needed a break before they had to take it from the top again._

_Vanessa’s eyes fell oo Brooke, and as she was walking towards her, Brooke felt like a teenager with her first crush._

_“Hey B, what you doing down here, slummin’ it with us, modern dancing hoes?”_

_“I just wanted to drop by with some coffee. I know how you get if you go without your midday mocha frappe latte monstrosity.” And with that, Brooke handed her the coffee she had been holding nervously ever since she had gotten the idea at the Starbucks earlier._

_The dumbfounded look on Vanessa’s face was worth her own nervousness, as she grabbed the cup and shyly looked up at Brooke, her breath still irregular from the dancing._

_“B… thanks!” Brooke couldn’t believe that she had surprised Vanessa into almost silence._

_Feeling brave she made a snap judgement, leaned down, and softly kissed Vanessa's cheek._

_She wanted to do so much more. This stupid dance that they were doing around each other becoming too much. The anticipation of what was to come, when they both finally decided to take the jump, warmed Brooke from the inside out._

_Leaning back, she fought to not laugh at the dumbfounded look on Vanessa’s face._

_Which was hard, as her whole body was filled with a nervous energy that made her want to giggle._

_“You're welcome. See you later, Ness,”_

_And with that, Brooke left._

_She knew that she would lose her cool, do something stupid, or simply say too much if she stayed._

_Right before she closed the door behind her, she heard a loud voice._

_“Daaaaaamn Vanj, your silly ass didn’t tell me, miss motherfucking Hytes was your girl.”_

_Brooke couldn’t help but smile to herself._

_Not yet, but soon._

_Hopefully, she would be her girl._

* * *

**_9th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

The dressing room was a chaos, filled with half-naked dancers, too many costumes and makeup strewn over every available surface. 

It was noisy, as orders were yelled across the room, coupled with chatting and jokes. 

It was exhilarating and everything Vanjie loved about being on tour. 

However, at the moment, as Vanjie was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, she was getting an unimpressed look from A’keria, whose eye roll still hit hard even through Vanjie’s cracked iPhone screen. 

_“You’re such an idiot, V,_ ” her crackling voice somehow managing to cut through the noise, Vanjie too desperate for some advice to plug in her headphones. 

They were all dancers anyway, they all have messy love lives. 

“I know that, Kiki. But like. The words got stuck in my throat.” It was true. Vanjie had spent the whole morning at Brooke’s apartment, wanting to give her the extra ticket she had. 

Wanting her to go, to see the show. 

But every time she opened her mouth to ask, she had chickened out, afraid that Brooke would say no. 

A’keria tutted at her, her brows raised high. 

_“How hard is it to say ‘Listen up, bitch. I gots you a ticket, please come an' see me shake my booty on miss Rihanna’s show’? I mean, hon. It’s Brooke, she wouldn’t say no.”_ The utter belief that Kiki had in Brooke wanting to spend time with Vanjie was baffling. 

Sure, they had spent the last 24 hours all over each other. 

But that was probably just a habit, more than anything else. 

“Your ass know nothin’. She prob still mad at me for leavin’.” Vanjie had caught Brooke looking at her weirdly a couple of times before she left earlier that day. 

The way her mouth had pursed spoke of annoyance. 

Maybe even anger. 

_“Vanjie, Baby. I love you. But you dumber than dumb if you think miss Hytes gon be blamin’ you for leaving her ass behind_.” All the noise behind her seemed to disappear at A’keria’s words. 

That made no sense, though. 

“I would want to kill her if she did that to me.” Which was true. If Brooke had dared to even think about moving away while they were together, without telling Vanjie, she would have popped off louder than a canon. 

Vanjie knew that what she had done to Brooke had been a shitty move. 

But one that had to be done. 

_“Yeah, cause you always get angry first, B doesn’t. You know that.”_ A’keria was too right. Throughout Brooke and Vanjie’s whole relationship, it had always been Vanjie that got angry first. 

Brooke took a lifetime to get truly angry, while Vanjie needed less than a second to reach full-blown rage. 

“I guess…” Vanjie couldn’t look at her phone, knowing that she would be met by A’keria’s You An Idiot™ look that she had perfected over the years. 

She didn’t need that level of realness in her life right now. 

_“That icy ballerina thinks you left her for your own good. That you all good now, that you ain’t gots to deal with her anxiety-riddled ass no more.”_ Those words did make Vanjie’s head snap up, looking at her phone in confusion. 

“That ain’t it, though.” It wasn’t. Vanjie’s choice to leave had nothing to do with Brooke’s anxiety, and more to do with the fact that she needed to do herself. 

Brooke’s career had stifled them both. 

_“I know that you know that, hell, everyone but her knows that.”_ Vanjie felt dread seeping into her bloodstream. 

“Fuck.” 

_“You gotta talk with her, instead of just having sex.”_ Vanjie noticed the way that Daniel was staring at her from the other side of the room with deep interest. 

Fucker was clearly listening in on her messy ass life. 

She sent him the stink eye, but he just shrugged and waggled his brows at her, clearly enjoying Vanjie getting told off. 

_Asshole._

“I know,” and she did. Vanjie knew that both of them were ignoring all the talks they needed to have. 

_“Yeah, but does that mean you gon' call her, though?”_

* * *

**_8th of July 2016, New York, NY_ **

_The weather was ridiculous. Too warm, too damp, and too fucking annoying._

_Vanjie was walking around in shorts and a crop top, and she still wanted to die. If it were up to her, she would have been lying around at home in her underwear, doing as little as possible._

_But not today._

_Brooke had decided to spend her summer teaching down at the community centre. Something that Vanjie was still trying to process. Brooke focusing on something other than her own advancement in ballet almost unimaginable._

_Yet, that was what she was doing._

_Spending her time surrounded by twenty cute and impossible 7-year-olds. Such an un-Brooke thing to do, but as Vanjie stood, leaning against the doorway, looking at the scene in front of her, she couldn't help but feel that it was the most correct thing in the world._

_Today was the day of the recital, and all girls were dressed up in pink leotards and tutu skirts, looking cute as mother-ducking buttons._

_And there, in between them all, was Brooke. Laughing and smiling brighter than a thousand suns._

_Making Vanjie weak in the knees as she watched Brooke crouch down and help one of her students with her pinker than pink bow._

_The way Brooke was so soft, so careful, made Vanjie’s heart grow ten times bigger._

_Seeing the ice queen melt at the sight of tiny ballerinas was a sight for sore eyes._

_One that Vanjie’s mind ran with, conjuring up pictures of a future where Brooke would be holding a different girl._

_Their daughter._

_How she would laugh and smile, hug her tight, and carefully tie up_ her _bow._

_Vanjie couldn’t wait for that future._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling? Soft? 
> 
> 'Cause I sure am.


	10. Ugly Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have u opened it yet? - V
> 
> No, calm down. We haven’t finished breakfast - B
> 
> jeez b ur family is weird… it’s 9 am and u tellin me that u aint openin presents yet??? - V
> 
> Yes. I told you, I would text you the moment I had - B
> 
> the moment! promise? - V
> 
> Promise. I love you - B
> 
> Love you too - V

**_10th of December 2019 - New York, NY_ **

“Holy fuck.” Vanessa’s loud voice rang through the apartment, making Brooke look up from her computer, where she was currently studying different variations for the different parts that she would be performing in Swan Lake come February. 

Vanessa had knocked on her door late last night, clearly high on the show they had performed as she proceeded to slowly and methodically take Brooke apart until all she knew was Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa. 

“And a good morning to you.” Brooke had been up for hours, her mind stuck on a downward spiral, trying to figure out what the hell was going. 

_Why was Vanessa there?_

_Truly?_

So she had done what she always did, turned to dance, watching countless videos, writing down notes on the block next to her computer. 

“You still have that?” She had once again stolen one of Brooke’s shirts, looking like every perfect Sunday morning, as she stood in the middle of the living, pointing her finger at Brooke’s shirt. 

Looking down at the frankly ugly Christmas sweater that she was wearing, Brooke shrugged. 

“Of course, I do.” Vanessa had given it to her, so of course, she had kept it. 

And it was very warm. 

“But you hate it?” Vanessa walked over to the couch, throwing herself down next to Brooke, snuggling up with no care in the world. 

Clearly, it didn’t mean anything to her that they were acting like the last year hadn’t happened.

“No. I just don’t love it.” Which was true. Brooke had innate hate for overly Christmassy things. And this sweater was not subtle, with its glitter and gold, bright red colour, and hideous motives. 

_She loved to hate it_. 

And maybe she had decided to wear it that particular morning because she wanted to show Vanessa that she still had.

Or maybe she had worn it because her anxiety was getting the better of her and she knew that the stupid sweater would calm her down. 

_Why did it matter, anyway?_

“Same thing, different potato and all that.” The words were mumbled into her arm, Vanessa snuggling up even closer, the t-shirt riding up a bit as she did. 

Brooke’s brain stopped working for a second. 

For one blissful second everything was quiet. 

And then. 

What was going on? Why was Vanessa here? What were they doing? 

If this was just a bit of fun, then maybe Brooke should put a stop to it before she got really hurt. 

_Too late._

The thoughts hit her at the speed of light, making Brooke shut her eyes against the avalanche of unanswerable questions that her mind was supplying. 

They really needed to talk, to figure out where they would go from here. 

Brooke took a deep breath, readying herself for a conversation that she knew would not go the way that she wanted it to. 

“I got a ticket for the show tonight, wanna come and see?” Vanessa’s voice made her close her mouth. 

She wanted her to come see the show? 

_Her?_

Brooke had missed seeing Vanessa perform, missed having the opportunity to see her work her magic live. 

Sure, there were videos online of all her different performances. 

But to see it live? 

That was something completely different. 

“Do I want to come and see the sold-out Rihanna's show? How is that even a question, ‘Nessa? Of course, I do!” Brooke bumped against her a bit, making Vanessa look up at her. 

“Yeah?” The uncertainty in her eyes coupled with the slight tremble in her voice made Brooke want to hug her forever. 

Instead, she leaned down and placed a single kiss on her lips, smiling softly as she leaned back. 

“Yeah,”

_They could talk later_

* * *

**_25th of December 2013 - Nashville, TN_ **

> **have u opened it yet? - V**
> 
> **No, calm down. We haven’t finished breakfast - B**
> 
> **jeez b ur family is weird… it’s 9 am and u tellin me that u aint openin presents yet??? - V**
> 
> **Yes. I told you, I would text you the moment I had - B**
> 
> **the moment! promise? - V**
> 
> **Promise. I love you - B**
> 
> **Love you too - V**

_Ever since Vanessa had almost thrown the package into her arms as she was leaving the dorm for Christmas break, she had been writing and texting Brooke constantly. Wanting to know if she had opened it yet._

_It was cute. It was annoying._

_It was very Vanessa._

_The buzz of her phone had been constant ever since she had woken up, Vanessa sending her a picture of herself drowning in wrapping paper, smiling from ear to ear._

_It was a different Christmas than the one she was having._

_The Hytes household did everything as slow as their drawl. Breakfast took hours while opening gifts could take the better part of the day._

_They had time._

_Which was why Brooke had ended up sitting primly on the enormous couch in her parents stately home, almost jittery with nervous energy, until finally._

_F I N A L L Y_

_“To Brooke from Vanessa. Who’s Vanessa, Lynn? Do we know of her?” Brooke didn’t give her father’s imploring eyes an ounce of attention, her eyes zeroing in on the gift, almost ripping it out of his hands in her hurry to finally get to open it._

_“Bill, it’s a friend… From that dancin’ school,” her mother’s voice was softer, clearly trying to jog her father’s memory as Brooke had mentioned Vanessa too many times to count ever since she arrived home._

_Ripping away the last piece of wrapping paper, Brooke was met by the ugliest Christmas sweater she had seen in her life. Red, glittery, filled to the brim with Christmas trees and mistletoes._

_It was horrible._

_On top of it was a tiny handwritten note._

> _**Brooke! Here’s the most christmassy sweater I could find in all target. I thought that even yo grinch-y butt would appreciate something that could keep your icy - but gorgeous - ass warm!!! I love you, and expect you to wear it the next time I see you!** _
> 
> _**V ♡** _

_“That little shit!” The words left Brooke’s mouth before she had a chance to stop herself, though the smile on her lips coupled with the warm feeling in her stomach was a sure sign that she wasn’t actually annoyed._

_“Brooke Lynn! Language.”_

* * *

**_10th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Vanjie was warming up on the floor, Daniel silently doing the same next to her. She knew he had questions, the way he had looked over at her ever since Vanjie had walked into the room with Brooke behind her. 

Looking over at her now, talking with one of the dancers that were Julliard alumni too, Vanjie couldn’t help but notice the easy-going smile on her lips. 

The way that Brooke had just walked into a part of her life and found space for herself with no trouble. 

_It was slightly unnerving._

“So, she’s your ex?” Daniel’s question made Vanjie roll her eyes. She should have known that he would be a nosy shit. 

“Yup.” She kept her voice indifferent, focusing instead on getting even deeper into the stretch.

“Who you’re currently sleeping with?” That was certainly a way to put it, though Vanjie felt like they were doing way more than that. The memory of spending their mornings together like that last year apart hadn’t happened still covering her body in a confusing blanket of warmth. 

“Uhuh” Daniel didn’t need to know that, though.

He was gossip central, and Vanjie didn’t need the whole troupe to be all up in her business - especially not when she had no clue about what the fuck was going on. 

“And not only did you give her a ticket, but you invited her backstage?” Almost as if this was a television show, Brooke’s laughter rang out from across the room at that moment. 

“Yes.” Vanjie couldn’t explain why, but there had been something about the way that Brooke had looked at her earlier, as she had gotten ready to leave for the day. 

She didn’t want their time together to end. 

Not _yet_ , anyway. 

“Wow. That’s a whole new level of messy. Even for you, and, shit, Vanj, I was there for the whole Kamer-“ Daniel’s voice had slowly gotten louder, until Vanjie finally looked over at him, covering his mouth with her hand.

“Shut the fuck up.” She didn’t need him to air her dirty laundry right this instance. 

_Or ever._

Looking him in the eye, she waited for a moment, before she pulled her hand away, hoping that Daniel would keep his mouth shut for once.

“Oooooh, she doesn’t know that you went through most of the dancers in West Hollywood?” 

She was an idiot for thinking that. 

“No,” she hissed the word through gritted teeth, thankful that he had at least kept his voice down, “and we are keeping it that way.” She waited for him to nod his agreement before she went back to her stretches. 

Looking over at Brooke for a moment, she couldn’t help but smile. Brooke visiting her at work had always been a rare occurrence, their performances often landing on the same day. 

_Yet, there she was._

“I still cannot believe that _your one that got away_ ex is Brooke Lynn Motherfucking Hytes,” Daniel said her name with a level of respect that dancer and choreographer rarely used. As Vanjie glanced over at him, she noted the light in his eyes. 

“How you know her anyway?” Vanjie was used to people in the NY community knowing Brooke, but Daniel? He was LA through and through, why did he know anything about ballet in New York?

“... Vanj, she made principle after only two years at NYC. That’s scarily impressive. Of course, I know who she is.” Vanjie swallowed down the bitterness she felt bubbling inside of her, not wanting to spill all her frustrations out now. 

Not with Brooke in the same room. 

“Yeah, well… She also spent her every waking hour on ballet, so...” Because sure, Brooke had reached the top faster than most, but she had sacrificed everything else. 

Friends. Family. 

_Vanjie._

“Oh…” 

“Yeah, _oh_. Now you done being a xoxo gossip hoe, so we can show my ridiculously talented ex that she ain’t got nothing on us?” Vanjie raised her voice at the end, catching Brooke’s attention, her knees getting weak at being on the receiving end of that million-watt smile. 

_Fuck that. It was time to show off a bit._

* * *

**_2nd of January 2014 - New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie was walking down the long hallway of the dorms. She had somehow managed to be one of the first people there. Being early and Vanessa Mateo were not two things that usually went together, Vanjie not caring if she was 5 minutes late, as it only meant that people noticed her when she arrived._

_This time though, she left for New York as soon as she could, her mother’s complaints about never seeing her falling on deaf ears._

_She missed Brooke, and she knew that her high strung girlfriend would arrive at school early, probably wanting to take advantage of the free practice studios._

_Perfectionism was not a cute look unless it was worn by one Brooke Lynn Hytes._

_Except, Vanjie had somehow managed to arrive before Brooke, forcing her to walk around the halls like some budget version of a ghost story._

_Less scary and more pathetic._

_The sound of footsteps coming from the other end of the hall made Vanjie look up, instantly being sucked into the deepest and bluest ocean that was ever held by a pair of eyes._

_Looking down, she noticed that Brooke was wearing the sweater._

_The gift from her._

_There was no thought behind anything, as Vanjie set off running, jumping directly into Brooke’s arms._

_For not the first time she was happy that her girlfriend was stronger than most, as she caught her easily in her arms._

_“Hi.” Vanjie’s nose touched Brooke’s as her legs found their way around her waist._

_Maybe she should feel a little silly for living her romcom fantasy, but the way Brooke’s lips twitched to keep her from laughing out loud, made her realise that she didn’t care_. 

_“And hello to you,” Brooke’s voice was low, her hands supporting Vanjie’s weight, while her eyes were shining._

_Vanjie’s hands ran over the soft sweater. She knew that Brooke probably hated it, that she would rather be dead than caught walking around in something so Christmassy and cheerful._

_And yet._

_Here she was. Wearing it in public._

_“You like it then?” Vanjie tried to keep her laughter from escaping her lips as the way Brooke’s face wrinkled like a scrunchy, trying so hard to not say something that would hurt Vanjie’s feelings._

_She was too cute._

_“I don’t… Hate it?” Vanjie clocked the slight panic that was slowly inching its way across Brooke’s features. The way she was holding her just a tiny bit tighter._

_Leaning down she pecked Brooke’s lips once._

_Twice._

_“I’ll take it.”_


	11. Ornaments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Only you, miss Hytes, would show up to a sold-out Rihanna concert and look at the dancing hoes,” Vanjie couldn’t help but laugh. It was such a Brooke thing to analyse any type of dancing she witnessed.
> 
> “What can I say? I know what I like,” the way she held on just a little bit tighter to Vanjie spoke volumes. 
> 
> Hinted at something too dangerous to be put into existence. 

**_11th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

“That was amazing.” Brooke’s voice sent shivers down Vanjie’s body, as they lay cuddled up together in Brooke’s bed in the early morning hours. 

Vanjie knew that Brooke kept a tight schedule and that she would normally be sleeping right now, but they hadn’t been able to leave until after midnight. 

“Yeah, RiRi is da bomb. Bitch changed clothes eight times without breaking a sweat, while I die with my three changes. That’s talent, _Mami_!” The nickname slipped out, Vanjie couldn’t take it back.

_And she didn’t want to._

“I meant you,” Brooke said it with such conviction that Vanjie couldn’t help but believe her. Her hand was playing softly with Vanjie’s fingers. It felt amazing.

It felt like home. 

“Only you, miss Hytes, would show up to a sold-out Rihanna concert and look at the dancing hoes,” Vanjie couldn’t help but laugh. It was such a Brooke thing to analyse any type of dancing she witnessed.

“What can I say? I know what I like,” the way she held on just a little bit tighter to Vanjie spoke volumes. 

Hinted at something too dangerous to be put into existence. 

“Oh, do you?” Vanjie said as she turned around. As she faced Brooke with her messy hair, tired eyes and soft smile, Vanjie could feel the ever-present adoration bubble up inside of her, threatening to spill over. 

_Fuck, she loved her._

“Uh-uh,” Brooke’s cheeky smirk made Vanjie want to kiss her and never stop. 

However.

“Like… what?” she was too curious. The thought of getting her dancing complimented by Brooke, now, was too good to give up. 

Not that she needed Brooke to tell her she was amazing. Vanjie knew. 

A bitch was fully booked and fully blessed. 

_But still._

“Your fluidity and arm movements were out of this world. Honestly, I felt bad for every other person on that stage. They looked like first-year students next to you,” Brooke’s eyes lit up at the words, making Vanjie want to take a picture so she could keep that specific look with her. 

For a moment Vanjie felt like she was the sun and Brooke was turning around her like. 

And not the other way around.

“Now I know you be a lying bitch, I know for a fact Plastique is better than me,” Vanjie wasn’t even mad. That bitch was a walking talking Instagram filter with perfect moves. 

_Lethal._

“The pretty one? Sure, technically. But she was boring. There was no feeling, no connections with the music. She just did the choreography,” Brooke said it with the verbal equivalent of a shrug, “Now you? Every single part of you was feeling the music. Was the music,” the words echoed every other compliment that Brooke had ever given her. 

Somehow they felt realer this time. 

“You just think that cause…” 

“Because?”

For a moment Vanjie wanted to just lean over and kiss Brooke, stop this conversation before it got too real and too dumb way too fucking quick. 

At the same time, she always wanted to know if Brooke was just humouring her. Telling her she was good only because they were together.

“Cause you know me, and this,” She motioned between them, lowering her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to look at Brooke’s eyes telling her the truth.

That she was being flirty Hytes and nothing else. 

A single finger forced her head back up, Brooke looking at her with a steady look. 

“I think that because it’s true. Ask Daniel tomorrow, he’ll agree with me,”

* * *

**_26th of December 2018, New York, NY_ **

> _**B… please come home - v** _
> 
> _**We need to talk, u cant just leave - v** _
> 
> _**Babe - v** _
> 
> _**At least lemme know u good and aint dead somewhere - v** _
> 
> _**Please. - v** _
> 
> _**I’ll be home in 10 - B** _

* * *

**_11th of December 2019, New York._ **

The wind was howling outside her window. Even for Brooke, huddled underneath countless blankets, safe in a cocoon on her couch, it sounded shrill and almost terrifying. 

Looking out, she could see the Christmas lights and ornaments flying back and forth, the wind tauntingly trying to rip away the Christmas cheer.

It all felt a little too on the nose. 

The way the storm outside seemed to be matching the one that had been brewing inside of Brooke the whole day. 

She had spent it alone. Going through the motions of a regular day off.

_Practice, dance, eat, repeat._

Vanessa had left early, grumbling with a coffee in her hand, stating that there were some scheduling issues with leaving for Jersey on the 12th. Brooke hadn’t really given it any thought as she had kissed her pouting lips, wishing her good luck. 

Until. 

She had been left all by herself. 

In the apartment that they had shared. 

_They were idiots._

Not that Brooke hadn’t known that. Her mind had tried to yell at her to see reason, to talk with Vanessa like an adult, but no…

Instead, they had been acting like there was nothing wrong with the two of them falling into each other’s arms all over again. 

_As if nothing had happened._

The air was charged with the expectation of the talk that they both knew was needed. Yet, they kept on distracting themselves and each other with kisses and touches, hoping that their bubble wouldn’t burst. 

Brooke knew that it needed to, though. This wasn’t a Nicholas Sparks novel, where everything would just magically be okay again. There wouldn’t be some grand gesture, flowers, and music. 

This was real life, and they were both fucked. 

Brooke didn’t want to have the talk, already knowing that the outcome would break her heart. 

She had her life and Vanessa had hers. 

The sound of a key in the door made Brooke’s heart rate pick up speed. 

She had given Vanessa a key that morning, glossing over how big of a deal that way, citing that she would probably be back from the show after Brooke had gone to bed. 

Except. 

_Brooke hadn’t._

“Oh shit, Brooke! I thought you’d be catching them Z’s now.” Brooke wanted to answer with something light. 

Wanted too much to not have this talk, to take Vanessa in her arms and forget about everything one last time. 

But she couldn’t. 

“Ness, we really need to talk.” 

* * *

**_26th of December 2018, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke had danced until her feet gave out. Lying on the floor of the studio dazed and so very tired._

_She didn’t want to go home._

_She wanted to ignore everything that had happened. She wanted to forget the look in Vanessa’s eyes as she had told her about LA, the way her eyes were half sad, half happy, and fully heartbroken._

_Brooke knew what would happen the moment she walked out through that door._

_She knew that their relationship was done._

_She could see it in every interaction they’d had over the last couple of months. The way that Vanessa had become quieter, less bubbly, and more introverted._

_They way they had stopped touching, never truly talking with, but rather at each other._

_The signs were all there._

_Brooke had just ignored them._

_She had set her mind to obliviousness and instead focused on dance._

_Ballet made sense and ballet had rules. It didn’t get emotional and it didn’t care for feelings._

_Where ballet was static and easy to understand, Vanessa was always in flux. Never stopping, never settling. Her emotions wilder than the sea, and her smiles brighter than the sun._

_She was everything._

_She deserved everything and more._

_But Brooke had given away her heart and her body to ballet at 5-years-old. It demanded her everything, and there was nothing left._

_The ring and the trip to Paris didn’t matter._

_Ballet would always be her first love._

_Standing outside their front door Brooke took a deep breath and opened it, instantly faced with the sight of Vanessa pacing the length of the living room._

_“So, I guess we need to talk.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up for incoming angst in 3-2-1-tomorrow.


	12. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I guess that’s it then.” The tears were still stubbornly staying where they were, Brooke’s eyes merely wet, while her cheeks were dry. 
> 
> “Guess it is.” Every cell in Vanjie’s body wanted her to stop Brooke, but she knew that it was already too late. 
> 
> Brooke was all ice, her walls taller than ever as she ran a hand over her face, trying to remove any evidence of emotions and heartbreak. 
> 
> “Okay. So when are you leaving?”

**_12th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

They had been sitting on the couch for ages. Brooke still hiding underneath her cover of blankets, while Vanjie was sitting up straight, too tense to let her back relax against the soft cushions. 

The silence was killing her, the way it felt too heavy like it was slowly choking her.

“You wanted to talk, so talk?” Vanjie had glanced at her phone earlier and noted that it was past midnight. 

_Why couldn’t she have waited until tomorrow?_

“What are we doing?” Brooke forced the words out as if she needed to give them an extra push to leave her mouth. 

Vanjie knew that feeling, the question had been inside her head ever since they had met in that Starbucks. Yet, she hadn’t planned to actually ask it. 

_She was leaving for Jersey in ten hours, for fuck's sake._

“We just having fun, boo,” Vanjie said it jokingly, wanting to soften the mood. This conversation felt too big.

She didn’t want it. 

“Are we? Truly?” Brooke's eyes held more questions than Vanjie ever wanted to answer.

Vanjie’s throat suddenly felt too restrictive, as if the whole of Sahara had decided to go there for a bit of vacation. 

Vanjie coughed, trying to loosen it all up, so she could answer Brooke, answer all the silly questions she seemed to have. 

“You want a glass of water?” Brooke’s eyes immediately went from searching to worried, the conversation forgot as she wanted to take care of Vanjie. 

It was so sweet. 

It was so fucking frustrating. 

Kiki was right. _She_ always got angry first.

Sure, it was just water now. But it had been everything from coffee in the morning to remembering her food orders. The way that Brooke had fluffed pillows just right and left out that one baggy t-shirt for Vanjie in the morning. 

She was so. Fucking. Considerate. 

So sweet and caring.

It made Vanjie furious in a way she couldn’t really explain. 

_Where was this bitch last year?_

“No. I’m good.” Vanjie knew that her words held a cutting tone, despite the smile that she was trying very hard to maintain. 

“So?” the searching look that Brooke was given her, should have made Vanjie realise that she was seeing red when everything was white. 

Instead, it just fuelled her. 

“Shit, B, whaddya want from me? We broken up. We don’t work out, you know this.” Vanjie was barely hanging on to her cool, her anger vibrating right underneath her skin. 

Ready to strike at any given moment. 

“Right…” Vanjie couldn’t look away from the way that Brooke was slowly curling into herself, almost as if she was retreating from the conversation.

Nu-uh. Bitch wanted a talk, she would get a talk. 

“We just enjoyin’ the opportuninity while it lasts. You really out here saying that just because we fuck a couple of times, you want a ring?” The way Brooke flinched at her words made Vanjie stop for a moment. 

Brooke had turned her face away from her, looking intently down at her fisted hands, her whole body tense. Vanjie knew that pose. 

_Holy shit, Brooke was angry!_

“What?” She couldn’t help it. Vanjie knew that an angry Brooke was a rare sight, something that most people were lucky enough to never witness. But fuck if Vanjie wasn’t going to poke the icy ballerina until she cracked.

“It’s nothing,” she said it quietly, mumbling, almost as if she was biting back some other words. Words that were angry and hateful.

Vanjie wanted them out in the open.

“Brooke, that face is tellin’ me multiple stories and none of them is nothing.” From her clenched jaw to her the way that her body was straighter than a Tom Hanks movie, Brooke seemed to scream annoyance. 

“Stop it.” Vanjie should have felt bad, should have stopped herself already, but there was just something about seeing Brooke lose her cool. 

Seeing her fight so hard to be proper and good, when all she really wanted to do was topple over the table and scream. 

_Vanjie wanted to see it._

“Or what? Baby, you wanted this talk and now you suddenly quiet?” She raised a single brow. “No, Mary. That is not the way we are going to do this.” A small part of Vanjie wanted to stop herself, wanted to take back the words. 

A bigger part wanted to watch it all crash and burn. Set it all on fire and dance on top of the remains of their fucked up relationship. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Brooke closed her eyes as she said it. Going by the deep breath she was taking, it was clear that she was trying to calm herself back down. 

To force the anger into its nice and safe hiding place.

_Fuck that._

“Too bad. You are, you will, and you gonna.” Brooke’s eyes were still closed. 

Vanjie could see that she was barely holding on. 

She only had to wait. 

Too bad she never really had any patience.

“Brooke, what is the point of fucking talking if you ain’t gon-“

“I WAS GOING TO PROPOSE!” Brooke yelled it into the room, almost jumping up from the couch as if she couldn’t handle sitting down for one more second. 

The words seemed to echo off the walls, running around in circles until all Vanjie could hear was that one word.

_Propose, propose, propose._

“You what?” It felt like a punch to the stomach, Vanjie couldn’t have heard correctly, there was no way. She felt dizzy looking at Brooke, seeing the wild anger in her eyes. 

Looking into them, Vanjie felt like she was out on the ocean in the middle of a storm, the blue so dark that it was almost black. 

“I. Was. Going. To. Propose,” Brooke punctuated every word, her mouth set in a sneer, almost as if she was disgusted with having to admit any of this. 

_As if she was humiliated._

“Shut up, you wasn’t.” There was no way. Vanjie remembered those last couple of months of their relationship. Brooke had barely been at home, always dancing, always focusing on everything but Vanjie. 

“I had a ring. I’d had it for months, waiting for the perfect moment. But every time I thought this is it, something happened, your face would fall, I would come home from practice and you would seem annoyed or mad. There was never a right time,” Brooke said it like a truth. 

_But it couldn’t be._

“What?” Vanjie felt stuck on the couch, glued to the seat, as if Brooke’s eyes had locked her in place. She wanted to run, wanted this conversation to end because it was too real, too much. 

Yet, she also couldn’t believe it. 

“So I had bought this vacation to Paris, I had even gone behind your back and cleared your schedule with Shuga. NYC had given me a week off in January and then…” Brooke motioned her hand towards Vanjie. For a moment, she looked completely heartbroken. All the anger seemed to have evaporated as if she was reliving the memory. 

The bitch had been planning to propose a week after they had broken up? 

“I don’t believe you.” Vanjie couldn’t believe it, that would change the story of everything. 

“What?” Brooke looked stricken. 

“There is no way in hell you were going to propose. Brooke, c’mon,” Vanjie said the words calmly, wanting this game to end.

Brooke set her jaw, her eyes like lightning.

_Fuck._

“Wait here.” And with that she stomped into the bedroom, every step making the knot in Vanjie’s stomach bigger and tighter. She got up from the couch, hoping that movement would settle her body, make her feel less like she was drowning. 

Brooke came back out and threw something at Vanjie, her reflexes faster than her thoughts, as she managed to catch it. 

_A black ring box._

Vanjie felt bile at the back of her throat. 

“Fuck you.” Brooke stopped a few feet away from Vanjie, her eyes glassy, the tears barely held back. “You might think that I am a cold bitch, who cares about nothing but ballet, but I bought that ring and I planned to ask. I wanted that. I wanted you!” Her voice cracking at the end instantly making Vanjie want to hug her, fix all of this. 

“Brooke…”

“You had this fucking ridiculous notion that you were number two in the line of loves in my life, but guess what, miss Vanjie? You were number one. Are number one.” For a moment Brooke just looked at her, a single tear falling down her cheek in synch with the breaking of Vanjie heart. “I would have stopped dancing if you asked me to. I would have done so many things if you just told me what you were thinking.” Brooke’s words instantly sent a surge of red and fiery anger through Vanjie’s blood.

“Hold the-” But Brooke cut her off before she even had a chance to formulate her anger, to realise why her whole body was shaking with the want, no need, to lash out. 

“I AM NOT FINISHED! You went to LA, you decided to leave, and you decided that my love would never be enough for you. And that is fair, that is why people break up but don’t ever come into my home and tell me that I didn’t love you more than anything else. Because I did...“ The words didn’t truly register with Vanjie, all she could hear was her heartbeat and the blood rushing through her veins. “And I do. Please leave.” 

“No”

* * *

**_December 26th 2018, New York, NY_ **

_“You should’ve told me!” Brooke sounded accusatory, standing by the door, only one shoe off, as she looked at Vanjie with a mixture of betrayal, sadness and anger._

_“When? Your ass ain’t ever home. You are always down at the studio, working them tippy toes to deaths.” Vanjie never saw her anymore. It was ballet this, ballet that._

_Brooke had even missed one of her shows last week because she had been so focused on her performance._

_“That’s a lie,” Brooke said it like she truly believed it, looking hurt by Vanjie’s words._

_It only fuelled Vanjie’s own anger._

_“Shut up. You’re down there every day of the week trying to be just a little bit better, a little bit more perfect. You know this, I know this, hell, everybody in this goddamn city know that!” The number of times that Vanjie had received pitying looks from their friends when Brooke was late, had started to grate on her nerves._

_It made her feel raw, the way that Brooke never picked her first. Never give anything up for her, while Vanjie was working her ass off to be there for Brooke as much as she could._

_“I didn’t thi-”_

_“No, that your motherfucking problem, Brooke. You ain’t ever thinking ‘bout anybody but your goddamn self. I swear, if you had to sacrifice me to become prima, you would. That’s all that matters. Your dream. Your life. Your success.” Vanjie knew that the words were harsh, knew that she was not censoring herself._

_Could see it on the way that Brooke’s whole body had gone from fighting stance to a puppet with no strings._

_“You’re not being fair.”_

_“Life ain’t fair, boo.”_

_For a moment time stopped. Vanjie knew that they were done. Knew that the moment Brooke had left earlier that they._

_If she was honest, she had known it ever since she had gotten that call._

_Yet, this moment was something else. This moment would define how they would break up._

_“So you’re saying I’m stifling you?” Brooke’s voice was wobbling, her eyes going from dry to teary in a second. “Ta-taking up too much space, that my pursuit of my own career is effectively killing you and your dreams?” The small stutter was almost too much. Brooke was taking it too literally, too harshly._

_She wanted to soften the blow._

_“I’m no-” Vanjie could herself off, trying to figure out her mind, to think the words through. She knew that she was being too harsh._

_Too mean._

_But even though Vanjie had all the good intentions in the world, her mouth ran its own show._

_“Yeah. You are.” As if in slow motion, Vanjie saw the words hit Brooke. The way her eyes widened for a second. The harsh hitch in her breath as she tried to hide the hurt that Vanjie had caused._

_Too late. It was written clearly in every inch of her body._

_“Oh.” Brooke swallowed back a sob. Vanjie wanted to run over to her and take it all back, wanted to soften her words, to explain what she actually meant, but she couldn’t._

_She was frozen as she watched Brooke simultaneously fall apart and pick herself back up again._

_She saw the tape being applied to every broken piece, as Brooke took a deep and hitching breath before her eyes focused back on Vanjie._

_“I guess that’s it then.” The tears were still stubbornly staying where they were, Brooke’s eyes merely wet, while her cheeks were dry._

_“Guess it is.” Every cell in Vanjie’s body wanted her to stop Brooke, but she knew that it was already too late._

_Brooke was all ice, her walls taller than ever as she ran a hand over her face, trying to remove any evidence of emotions and heartbreak._

_“Okay. So when are you leaving?” Brooke used her professional voice, sounding as if she was talking about a business proposal rather than Vanjie moving out._

_Them breaking up._

_“Next week,” was what Vanjie said, though her heart beating in morse code, screaming out ‘never’._

_“Okay.” Just like that. So cold, so removed._

_Brooke was slowly nodding to herself as her eyes filtered all over the place, never once glancing over at Vanjie._

_“Brooke, I-”_

_“No, you’re right. I’ve been too selfish. I see that, and I get why you want to leave. I’ve heard of that dance studio, it’s really great. Benjamin is doing amazing things down there…” Vanjie felt the tears well up at Brooke’s words. She was fucking congratulating her, even if it meant that she was leaving._

_Oh, Brooke._

_“Uhm. I’ll just... I’ll call Violet, you can stay here,”_

_Nonononono._

_“No, Brooke. C’mon, I’ll leave.” Brooke was already walking towards the bedroom, never once glancing back at Vanjie._

_“No, you probably need to pack and I…” She trailed off as she disappeared into the bedroom._

_Vanjie wanted to run in there and stop her. Tell Brooke’s logical ass to stop for a minute and let Vanjie be the bad guy. Let her leave the apartment._

_But she couldn’t._

_Her throat was tight, her heart empty, and her limb weak._

_Even if Vanjie knew that this was probably for the best, she felt no joy in it, no sense of accomplishment. The only thing that kept on replaying inside her head was that look on Brooke’s face._

_The way she had cracked open._

_Fuck._

_“I’m sorry.” Brooke’s voice startled Vanjie as she came back out into the living, a small bag in her hand._

_“For what?” Vanjie could hear the tremble in her voice, could feel the tears that were close to spilling over._

_Brooke walked right past her, quickly putting her jacket and the one shoe she had managed to take off earlier._

_She turned her back, getting ready to leave, Vanjie opened her mouth to ask again, but Brooke was faster than her._

_“For managing to be too much and too little at the same time.”_

_And then she left._

* * *

**_12th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

For a moment, Brooke felt caught off guard, the way that Vanessa was looking at her with an untamed fire. 

The way Vanessa was clenching that black box in her hand, made apprehension curl its way up Brooke’s back. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Brooke was still shaking. The ring had been buried underneath her socks for the last year, and having finally shown it to  _ anyone  _ for the first time, made her want to throw up,

Too painful to look at and too heartbreaking to throw away. 

“I mean no. I ain’t leavin’, cause your forgetful ass be twisty turning the truth.” Vanessa wasn’t yelling, her voice instead low and harsh. 

“What are you talking about? I am ju-” She didn’t get to finish her thought, as Vanessa merely raised a single finger, pointing it directly at her. 

“Shut. Up. You would never give up ballet for me, not in a trillion million years. It would never happen. So don’t you stand there and lie into my face, and think that I’ll let that shit slide.” Brooke knew that there was some truth to those words. 

Knew that giving up ballet would be like cutting off a limb. 

“I-”

“I said shut up. It’s my turn.” Brooke’s mouth was still open, countless of interjections at the tip of her tongue. Yet, the pointed stare from Vanessa made her close her mouth. 

Even through her own anger and hurt, Brooke knew that it was her turn to listen. 

“I knew you loved me. That was never a fucking question, Brooke Lynn! But you loved me second. It was always ballet, then me, never any other way. And I get it. You met ballet way before me and she was beautiful in her perfect pink tulle skirt.” Vanessa’s words felt like small stabs. 

_Each one cutting deeper than the last._

She wanted to retaliate, wanted to yell back, but her voice was lost to her, struck by the pain of the semi-truths that Vanessa was coldly stating. 

“So your dumbass bought me a ring? You can’t marry someone if you’ve already promised your ass off to someone else, though.” She didn’t take note of the confused expression, throttling on. “I would’ve said no, B. I ain’t no mistress, I’m the wife that gets showered in love. And you ain’t ever gonna give me that.” 

Brooke swallowed the sting of those words, feeling the anger returning to her body, even though Vanessa’s words had left her bleeding. 

“How can you be so sure of that?” Brooke would have given her that and more. Would have worshipped her. 

“Because I spent five years feeling like a number two when I deserved to be the only one.” Vanessa raised an eyebrow, daring Brooke to contradict her. 

She wanted to. 

_But knew that she would be lying._

“So the only way we can ever be together again is if I leave ballet behind? Stop my career?” The unfairness of such a request, of forcing Brooke to deny a part of herself that was so ingrained in her felt staggering. 

For a moment it felt like the air got stuck in Brooke’s lungs, the mere idea of leaving behind her one and true passion too painful to even consider. 

“No.” Vanessa’s voice was clear, her eyes steely as if she couldn’t believe that Brooke had asked her that. 

“Then what?” 

“I-”

“No really, what? Because from what I am hearing you’re blaming me for all of this, even though you’re the one who left. You’re the one who went behind my back and you’re the one that never gave me a chance to do better. To be better.” They never had a real talk about their problems. They went from being together to ending up on their own the same way that day becomes night. 

_All too sudden, but evermore slowly._

“I left ‘cause you had already let me go.” Brooke wanted to laugh at that. Vanessa once again placing the blame on her, making her out to be the only villain in a play where there were no heroes. 

“No. You left because it was easier. Don’t you go all RomCom on me, Vanjie. Grow up and face the facts.” Brooke needed Vanessa to own up some of the blame. It wasn’t fair that everything came down to Brooke when it was Vanessa that had kept quiet. 

Had started thinking about a future without Brooke. 

Had decided to move on without ever giving her a chance. 

“Fuck you, B” Vanessa said it with venom as she walked over and started to put her coat back on. 

Brooke didn’t care. 

She could leave for all she wanted. 

“No, fuck you.” 

_Brooke was done._

* * *

**_2nd of January 2019, New York, NY_ **

_“You’ve got everything?” Brooke was trying to keep her voice light, trying to muster up some type of emotion that didn’t involve tears._

_Even if she felt like she was letting a part of herself go._

_“I think so,” Vanessa was standing at the door, her coat tightly knotted with her large suitcase next to her._

_She was really leaving._

_Vanessa tried to smile, though her eye kept on looking over Brooke. It was clear that she was worried about her._

_Not that she needed to._

_Brooke would be fine._

_“I’ll just send the rest to your mom’s, yeah?” Brooke tried to make eye contact, to show Vanessa that she would be okay._

_Yet…_

_Every time their eyes met it felt like her heart was breaking all over again as if the tape she used to make it hold up until Vanessa left was useless._

_“So-”_

_“I was-”_

_They both laughed nervously, wringing their hands and avoiding eye contact. Five years and now they felt like strangers. It was too much to bear._

_“So… take care? Go make the world know who miss Vanjie is,” Brooke heard her voice crack, and wanted to sink into the earth, Vanessa didn’t need this._

_She had promised herself to not be the crying ex._

_Vanessa deserved better than that._

_“B…” she said it so softly that Brooke felt the tears well up. She blinked rapidly and soldiered on, needing to work through this._

_Needing to get the words out._

_“And Uhm, don’t be a stranger, you can always call if you’re back here and you might want to-” and then Vanessa hugged her._

_Tight._

_Brooke had no choice but to hug her back. She tried to put every apology, every love declaration and every tiny piece of her into that hug._

_It felt like Vanessa was doing the same._

_For a long time, they just stood there. Grasping each other like their lives depended on it, standing there in the middle of the apartment, their broken relationship lying at their feet._

_Slowly Vanessa loosened her grip._

_So very slowly, as if she, too, wanted to savour it._

_Keep it for later._

_But she did let go._

_And then with no words, she simply grabbed her suitcase and left. The door clicking softly behind her._

_Brooke had no idea how long she stood there, not moving, simply staring at the door, tears silently falling down her cheeks until she had no more to cry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?


	13. Jingle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke had never felt more useless than she did at that moment. 
> 
> Her apartment was half empty, semi-ruined, and completely haunted. Everywhere Brooke looked, she saw traces of Vanessa. 
> 
> The empty places where her stuff had been, the lonely hangers that once held all the colourful dresses and jackets. Everything was gone. 
> 
> All that was left was broken dreams. 

**_13th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

The cafeteria was a cacophony of sounds. People talking, cutlery hitting plates, chairs screeching across the floor, and glasses being placed on the tables.

Normally, Brooke would relish in it. The essence of sitting amongst her peers, all of them eating the same ridiculous kale salad, while trying to outdo each other with the poor state of their toes and nails. 

Today - not so much. 

The anger from last night was simmering right underneath her skin. She felt raw as if everything - sounds, lights and touch - hurt her. 

The sounds of her front door slamming still reverberated inside her head, turning into a baseline that made her blood boil. 

The worst part was that Brooke knew that Vanessa hadn’t been wrong. 

_Not at all._

Brooke had been absent in their relationship, had been too focused on her own life to see that Vanessa was slowly wilting. 

Yet, that didn’t stop her from being pissed, as she used her fork to stab an innocently looking piece of cucumber. 

“Please, tell me that you’re as over the Sugar Plum Fairy as I am.” Violet placed her tray down with a clack that brought Brooke out of her furious musings. 

“Really?” Brooke couldn’t find it in herself to care one bit about the stupid music, continuing to stab her salad hoping that the act would calm the fury inside of her. 

“C’mon, Hytes. That Christmassy Jingle Bell music must be haunting you too.” Violet’s single raised eyebrow dared Brooke to contradict her. 

_Brooke couldn’t._

“I hate it.” She did. The bells haunted her sleep. Their clear sound and high pitch almost too much. 

“Thank God!” Violet took a sip of her water, looking over at Brooke. Going by the look on her face, she was not impressed with what she found. “So, you look like death warmed over… Vanessa?” Brooke hated that Violet could pick her apart easier than a four-piece puzzle. 

The way that she could look past all of Brooke’s icy exterior and see what lay behind it. 

“You could say that.” Brooke tried to sound vague, not wanting to get into it there, all the gossiping ears of the company too close. 

“Brooke…” Trust Violet to not care about anything as pedestrian as other people when she was faced with an emotional Brooke. 

It was sweet.

_It was annoying._

“We had a fight. She left.” Brooke fought to keep all her emotion inside, all of them flocking to the surface. 

She managed to keep them down.

_Barely._

“Well, the tour is leaving today, though?” Violet said it in an unamused tone thinking that Brooke was merely stalling. 

Brooke wasn’t, she just didn’t want to get into everything about the how, when, and why. Everything inside of her was too raw, too furious to actually explain the situation. 

“No. She. Left.” The ring was still on the coffee table, tempting Brooke to open the black box of gold, diamonds, and dead dreams. 

“Oh.” Violet let that one word hang in the air, probably waiting for Brooke to elaborate, but she couldn’t. 

_Wouldn’t._

“And how do you feel about that?” 

“Like I could stand on pointe for three hours and then drink a bottle of vodka.” If Brooke was honest, she could probably go for two bottles and forget that the last week had ever happened at all. 

“All healthy choices, I see.” Violet’s sarcasm was so heavy, that Brooke felt it cover her like a suffocating blanket. 

“Yup.” Brooke went back to stabbing the wilted lettuce, feeling the anger ebb as Vanessa’s stricken face entered her mind. 

The way she had looked as if Brooke had slapped her with the prospect of a future that would never be. 

“I have a better idea. How about you joined Sutan and me for dinner tonight, instead? Tati is dancing tonight, anyway.”

* * *

19th of January 2019, New York, NY

_Brooke had never felt more useless than she did at that moment._

_Her apartment was half empty, semi-ruined, and completely haunted. Everywhere Brooke looked, she saw traces of Vanessa._

_The empty places where her stuff had been, the lonely hangers that once held all the colourful dresses and jackets. Everything was gone._

_All that was left was broken dreams._

_Which was why Brooke had almost started living down at the studio. Dancing on repeat until her feet gave out._

_She needed to dance, needed to ignore the dark hole inside of her chest that seemed to suck out all joy, all feelings until there was nothing left._

_Brooke was empty. A feeling too heavy and too light at the same time._

_The only time anything felt remotely okay was when she was dancing._

_Except now she couldn’t even do that. The Ballet Mistress having sent her home after having seen the state of Brooke’s feet._

_They were more black and blue than anything else. Every step hurt, every movement too painful._

_And yet, sitting there, in her apartment, all alone with her thoughts, feelings, and emptiness, she felt as if she was dying._

_The tears had long since dried up, there was nothing left._

_Just pain._

_The sound of the doorbell ringing forced Brooke to limp her way over to the door, the pain of walking a much-needed break from her own thoughts._

_Opening the door, she found herself face to face with Violet._

_Her usual snarky eyes exchanged for something softer._

_Something friendlier._

_Brooke didn’t know when thought turned into action, just that she ended up in Violet’s arms, her steady hold the first touch of comfort that Brooke felt ever since Vanessa had left._

* * *

**_13th of December 2019 - Newark, NJ_ **

The van stopped at the back entrance of the Prudential Center, dancers and crew spilling out of all doors. 

Vanjie felt ready to cut a hoe, start a fight, or rip somebody to pieces. The anger had been building steadily ever since she had left the apartment. 

The ring, the fight, and the goddamn nerve of Brooke to just… 

_Stand there and talk about a future that was im-fucking-possible._

“Look, Vanj. I know we’re in Jersey and that’s an insult to any New Yorker in itself, but you don’t have to look that angry.” Daniel’s voice made her jump five feet into the air, so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him walk up to her. 

“Daniel, baby. Don’t sneak up on an angry hoe. Just ask lil Timmy from fourth grade.” Vanjie still remembered the way that snitch had screamed. 

“What happened to him?” Daniel couldn’t keep the giggles at bay, his eyes bright with a contagious humour that made Vanjie smile in spite of herself. 

“Broke his nose, got myself detention for a month and a whooping from my mama,” Vanjie wheezed with laughter. Her stomach almost cramping. 

Trust Daniel to make her feel better. 

“Now that’s the Vanjie I know and love. Are you ready to bring it tonight?” Maybe he could tell that Vanjie needed a distraction, that she needed someone to bring her out of her head and into the real world. 

She needed a break from Brooke, for the way her stomach churned with the image of that black ring box. The anger in Brooke’s eyes.

_Fuck that._

“I was born ready,” 

* * *

**_9th of January 2019, Los Angeles, CA_ **

_Vanjie didn’t know what day it was. Didn’t care that the weather was sweltering and that she was dying underneath all the covers._

_None of it mattered._

_She felt wrong._

_Empty._

_She missed Brooke, wanted her next to her in the bed._

_Silky had been quiet. Hadn’t forced Vanjie to do anything, as she knew that she needed time to cry. To hide away from the fact that she had broken up with Brooke._

_Vanjie had broken up._

_With Brooke._

_Even thinking the words made Vanjie’s stomach hurt. It was all so wrong. They weren’t supposed to have broken up. They were supposed to be it. Get that happily ever after that all the fairytales talked about._

_But it had all been just that._

_A fairytale._

_Reality was different._

_Reality was instead lying underneath four covers in the Los Angeles sun, sweating like a hooker in church, wondering why going her own way felt less like a victory and more like a loss._

_Fuck, she missed Brooke._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know how I managed to get this done today. 
> 
> So really. I hope any of it made sense.


	14. Mittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nope. You love her, God knows why, but you love that upstrung, uptight, uppity up ballerina, ain’t no LA pussy ever gonna fix that, so why you even trying?” Silky paused for a moment, probably waiting for Vanjie to yell at her, but she suddenly felt at a loss for words, “Why not go back to her, why not give it a go where you both use words. Communicados and all that?”
> 
> “Cause she got ballet?” Even as she said it, Vanjie felt herself hesitate for a moment. 
> 
> Was that the actual truth, though?
> 
> “And you got dance?”

14th of December 2019, Philadelphia, PA

 _“So lemme get this straight. Y’all fucked for a week and played Branjie 2.0, and then you had a fight and she showed you a ring, and then you ran outta there like there was a Fenty sale on.”_ Silky’s voice filtered through Vanjie’s airpods as she paced the tiny hotel room. 

Vanjie was already feeling the tour fatigue, this thing with Brooke had managed to put a big damper on her mood. 

_Bitch._

“Shut up with the Branjie thing,” the words were mumbled. The nickname had started back in 2013 when they’d gone from being shy, potential gal pals to fly actual girlfriends. 

Vanjie had loved it, thought it was cute, letting herself live her Brangelina fantasy. 

Brooke had hated it. 

_“Not when your ass be acting like this is 2013 and you just kissed your dream girl. So am I missing something?”_ Silky’s no-nonsense voice made Vanjie feel like she was talking to her Mama. 

The way she managed to combine worry with disappointment.

Vanjie would’ve been impressed if it wasn’t for the fact that she felt like a ten-year-old that just got cussed out ‘cause she stole her brother’s candy bar. 

_Again._

“Nah. Seems accurate.” She dumped down on the bed, bouncing a bit before she stretched out fully. 

She was exhausted. 

The bus ride from Newark to Phili hadn’t been long, but her knee had complained the whole trip, while Daniel kept on sending her weird-ass looks. 

The silence at the other end of the line made Vanjie apprehensive. 

_Silky was never quiet._

She was like a white girl at the mall, always yapping her mouth off. 

But then she heard the loud intake of air and knew that she was in for it. 

_“Y’all are some motherfucking idiots.”_ Vanjie didn’t need to see Silky to know that she was rolling her eyes harder than a pre-teen. 

She could almost hear it. 

“I know.” She kicked her feet against the bed, knowing that Silky was right and hated it. 

_“Nah, you think you being dumb because you started kissing on that tall bean pole of blonde again.”_ Vanjie’s nose wrinkled at Silky’s words, not knowing where she was going with this. 

“Yeah?” glancing over at the clock on the bedside table, Vanjie relaxed further into the bed, realising that she had an hour before she needed to get ready. 

_“That it ain’t it, boo. You’re a dumb chicken 'cause you stopped.”_ Normally Silky would be laughing when she called Vanjie out like that, but the truthness in her voice instantly made Vanjie sit up on the bed. 

“Shut up.” She tried to keep her voice down, but everything inside of her was ready to pop off like her own cherry on prom night. 

_“Nope. You love her, God knows why, but you love that upstrung, uptight, uppity up ballerina, ain’t no LA pussy ever gonna fix that, so why you even trying?”_ Silky paused for a moment, probably waiting for Vanjie to yell at her, but she suddenly felt at a loss for words, _“Why not go back to her, why not give it a go where you both use words. Communicados and all that?”_

“Cause she got ballet?” Even as she said it, Vanjie felt herself hesitate for a moment. 

Was that the actual truth, though?

 _“And you got dance?”_ Silky was clearly on a roll, almost blindsiding Vanjie with her sudden need to give out some tough love. 

_Who’d she think she was? Kiki?_

“Yeah, but she gots ballet. It’s her whole life!” She said it loudly, the words tasting like a half-truth. 

Brooke had seemed softer the last week, less focused than usual. 

_“Well, her whole life will probably leave her in abouts three years, and then what?”_ Vanjie fell back on the bed, Silky’s words forcing her back. It was a fact that Brooke and Vanjie had fought over multiple time. 

Yet, somehow hearing Silky say it like that, seemed to put everything into perspective. 

“Then…” she trailed off, her mind blanking, as she tried to imagine what Brooke would do if she didn’t have to spend her every waking moment on ballet. 

_“Vanj, baby. You know I’ll cut a hoe if she messes with your booty, but I’m just sayin’... you want Brooke to mess with you… So why not just let her?"_

* * *

**_7th of November 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie was dying._

_She was certain of it._

_The way that everything was itchy, burning, and scratching. She wanted to scratch, scratch, scratch, until her body calmed the fuck down._

_But she couldn’t._

_“Brooke, baby. My moon, my sun, my everything. Please.” Vanjie was looking up from her prison on the bed at Brooke, who was calmly typing away at her computer, a small smile on her face._

_“Ness, it’s for your own good.” Vanjie hated that Brooke looked so cute when she was being evil._

_A villain._

_“Brooke, please.” Vanjie kicked her feet back on the bed, almost making the covers and pillows bounce all over. She knew that she was being stroppier than a five-year-old, but she didn’t care._

_She was dying._

_“Nope.” The sound of her fingers tapping against the keyboard was mocking her._

_“But I’m dying here,” Vanjie’s whining hit a pitch so high that only dogs could hear it. Maybe some rescue dog would show up and save her from this hell._

_“No, you’re not. You’ve just got the chickenpox.” Brooke finally lifted her eyes from the laptop, looking over at Vanjie on the bed._

_She was pouting as she looked down on the mittens that Brooke had forced on her hands earlier when Vanjie had kept on scratching the scabs._

_Seeing the way that Vanjie had almost taken off the mittens the moment the itch hit her, Brooke had found some tape and secured them to Vanjie’s hands._

_That had been two hours ago, and Vanjie was dying._

_Cursing her girlfriend for being a clever little shit._

_“Dying. That’s me. Tomorrow there’ll be a big story on the news. ‘Young dancer killed by the hands of Lesbian Lover’,” Vanjie groaned as she let her mittened hands run over arms._

_It wasn’t enough._

_“If you stop complaining for a moment, I’ll rub some cream onto your skin.” Vanjie squinted at her. The last time Brooke had offered to do something nice for her, she had ended up with the stupid-ass mittens._

_All of this seemed like a trap._

_So she continued to lay on the bed as Brooke walked over to grab her cream, the smile on her lips, less cute and a whole lot more mocking._

_“You’re laughing at me.” Vanjie crossed her arms over her chest, as she decided to stare resolutely at the ceiling, her body screaming at her, telling her to scratch everything._

_Now._

_She heard Brooke walk closer until she could see the hint of her red yoga pants at the corner of her eye. The sound of a cap opening should have told her that Brooke was being serious, but she was still smarting from Mitten Gate, the betrayal tasting bitter._

_Until._

_Sweet. Relief._

_A cold hand started to rub its way down her right arm. The tenderness of the movement coupled with the soothing formula of the cream almost too much._

_For a moment Vanjie felt like she had taken the fast train from hell directly to heaven. No stops no nothing, just a one-way ticket to pure bliss._

_“Still dying?”_

_“Shut up.”_

* * *

**_14th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Her head hurt in a way that it hadn’t done for years. The continuous pounding in her temples felt like a steady beat that Brooke knew her feet would riot against. Her mouth felt dry and her muscles lethargic. 

Not exactly the optimal condition of a ballerina that was an hour away from taking the stage.

_Fucking Violet._

She should’ve known that going over to her place to have dinner would result in drinking too much wine. Should’ve known that for Brooke to drink more than two glasses of white wine the night before a performance would be one and a half too many. 

But she hadn’t.

So there she was, applying her makeup and trying to will away the headache, knowing that she had a job to do, people to wow, and steps to perform. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Talent herself” The voice instantly made a smile appear on Brooke's lips. The shock of hearing it here and now almost made her fall off her chair in her hurry to jump up from it.

“Steve!” For a moment, Brooke felt all emotions hit her at once. Happiness, sadness, and pure joy, “What are you doing here?” It had been months since she’d last seen him, back before he’d left for Chicago. 

She ran up to hug him, instantly engulfed in his big and warm arms. She could feel the way her emotions were hitting her, as her eyes stung for a moment, as she let herself be transported back to the days when such a hug had been an everyday instance. 

Steve had been her partner in crime, dance, and some other parts of life. The one man she trusted more than anyone else to always catch her when she fell. 

They had been the dream team, their pas de deux the closest thing to perfection that Brooke had ever had the pleasure of performing. 

“I had to come up and see my favourite ballerina do her thing.,” The way his eyes widened told Brooke that he was definitely lying.

_Oh, for fuck’s sake._

“Violet called you,” Brooke pulled back from the hug, as some of her initial happiness soured, as she realised that Steve was there less as a surprise and more as the Violet edition of some type of intervention. 

“Vi called me. She said that it was a Code Vanessa and that I needed to come up here and talk some sense into you.” Steve merely shrugged, the smile on his lips not moving a single inch as he looked over Brooke. 

“Oh,” Brooke couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice, walking back over to the mirror, to continue putting on her makeup. 

“Don’t ‘ _Oh_ ’ me. I took the first flight I could. Violet sounded worried, so I felt like it was my duty to get here as fast as possible, and judging by your face I made the correct decision,” Steve was clearly overreacting since there was no way that Violet was worried about her. 

She just liked to meddle, that was all. 

“It wasn’t her call,” Brooke angrily applied powder to her face, the soft puff-puff sounding hard and almost painful.

“Sure, but when has Violet ever cared about anything being her call?” Brooke shrugged, knowing that Steve was right, “so talk to me,” 

“There’s an hour till I need to be on stage,” Brooke once again glanced at the clock, hoping that it would move faster so she could leave this conversation behind. 

If not forever, then at least until the end of the night. 

“I know, but has that ever stopped you from talking about Vanessa?” Steve walked over to her and sat down in the chair next to her, his warm eyes making her want to spill all her secrets. 

“I hate you,” She really didn’t. 

“You love me!” he leaned his elbow on the makeup table, resting his head on his hand, mirroring a pose he’d done countless times before, “So, Vanessa?” The way he nodded, meant that Brooke had no choice but to start explaining.

“She was here, the last week or so,” she trailed off, not wanting to tell Steve how messy they’d been, “we did what we always do, and then she left,” with that she turned back to smooth out the powder a bit, not daring to look Steve in the eye. 

He would know that she was glossing over the truth. 

“That’s it?”

“Yup,”

For a moment Brooke felt relief, the comforting silence of Steve just sitting next to her, as she went about transforming her into the ethereal being that a true ballerina was. 

She truly thought that he would let her get away with it. 

_Only for a moment, though._  
  
“So when Violet told me about you spending a whole day with Vanessa without showing up at the studio that was a lie?” Steve let the question hand in the air, while Brooke lost her grip on her brush, the clattering sound of it hitting the table too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Or how about what she said about you guys having a massive fight, resulting in Vanjie leaving?” Brooke turned to face him at the question, his smile devilish, while his eyes dared her to contradict him.

“Or… And this is truly my favourite part of the story… How about the fact that you showed her the engagement ring?” The mix of amazement, shock and slight glee made Brooke clench her hands. 

_She had told Violet that in drunken confidence._

“I hate her,” Brooke’s voice was low, not portraying the murderous plot her mind was supplying her with to make Violet meet an early and violent end. 

“You love her. So how about you try to go through this thing one more time with me, starting at the beginning - I hear that you guys fucked in a Starbucks toilet an-” Steve didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as Brooke’s hand instantly covered his mouth, her eyes wild with panic, as she remembered the open door to her dressing room. 

“I HATE HER!”

* * *

**_7th of July 2019, - New York, NY_ **

_JFK Airport was buzzing and humming with life. Somehow it managed to all turn static as Brooke was standing in the middle of it all, wringing her hands, and wishing that she didn’t have to go through with any of this._

_Steve was standing in front of her, his lips curled into a smile that made everything feel okay for just a moment._

_It was one of his many talents, the way he could calm down Brooke with a single word, look or smile. A gift that was only shared by one other person._

_And she had left town seven months ago, and now he would be leaving too._

_“So this is really it?” Brooke fought hard and mostly managed to keep her voice from cracking._

_“Guess it is,” Steve’s eyes softened, clearly noticing that Brooke was barely hanging on._

_His readiness to care about Brooke’s feelings, even at this moment, seemed to open the flood gates, as she flew into his arms._

_Steve catching her with ease, giving her the hug she clearly needed._

_“I cannot believe that that you’re leaving me,” Her words were muffled into his shirts, while his arms only held on tighter._

_Brooke felt the tears falling down her cheeks, hating herself for not being able to hold it together, while Steve’s hand slowly rubbed her back, trying to calm her down._

_She was so selfish._

_“I’m only going to Chicago,” Brooke knew that it wasn’t that fair, that he was only a short flight away, but still._

_“That’s far enough,” Her voice breaking under the pressure of the tears, emotions and realisation that everyone she loved seemed to always leave her._

_Steve leaned back a bit, wiping away the tears._

_“Brooke. C’mon, don’t cry on me now, we’re supposed to be happy.” He pushed her chin up with a single finger, meeting her with a big smile, “you promised,”_

_She had._

_They had made a pact that there would be no tears. There had been far too many over the last six months, and it wasn’t fair of her to sully Steve’s departure with sadness when he was leaving for a good reason._

_To go make a life with his fiancé._

_“I know. I am happy. I am so happy for you and Jon,” Brooke tried to smile through her sniffles, even though she knew that it probably looked more than a bit forced._

_It was the least she could do for him._

_She owed him that after he had worked so tirelessly at helping Brooke get through the last six months._

_“Me too,” at the mere mentioning of Jon, Steve’s eyes shone with the stars and hearts, love radiating from every single part of him._

_Brooke was so happy for him._

_But she also envied him._

_Not for leaving, but for managing to find a way to keep all the things he wanted. Envied him for managing to keep ballet and Jon. His life perfectly balanced between his two loves._

_If only Brooke had managed to figure that out before it had been too late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With 40 minutes to spare and there's a new chapter.
> 
> Shout out to frey for being best beta in the world. Honestly!


	15. Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a life.” Brooke’s hands clenched themselves into fists, annoyed and slightly hurt at the way that Steve didn’t say anything, but instead chose to simply raise a single brow at her. 
> 
> “Fuck you, I do.” Brooke could hear the way her voice rose at the end, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. 
> 
> “Name one thing in your life that is not ballet-related. I dare you, Hytes!”

**_15th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

“You know what I’m going to say.” Steve was sitting on the floor, appearing to be perfectly at ease in his jeans and t-shirt, while being completely out of place, as he watched Brooke go over her daily stretches on the barre. 

A few months ago they would’ve been standing side by side. 

“Yeah, and I don’t want to hear it.” Brooke hated all of these talks, hated that every single one of her friends were playing matchmakers extraordinaire. 

There was nothing to match, Brooke and Vanessa were clearly just not meant to be. 

“Brooke,” Steve’s used his soft voice, the one that usually managed to make Brooke quiet down a bit, made her listen. 

_Not today._

“No, Steve.” She angrily went deeper into the stretch, relishing the slight burn of her muscles, trying to keep her focus on that.

“You need to realise-“ 

“Please, don’t!” Brooke turned around to look at Steve, hoping that he would stop, but he merely continued as if she had never interrupted him. 

“-that there is a life outside of ballet.” The words made the sinking feeling in her stomach worse. She hated the way that everyone always used that against her, always made her be this insanely single-minded person that only had an eye for ballet. 

_It was not true._

“I have a life.” Brooke’s hands clenched themselves into fists, annoyed and slightly hurt at the way that Steve didn’t say anything, but instead chose to simply raise a single brow at her. 

“Fuck you, I do.” Brooke could hear the way her voice rose at the end, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. 

“Name one thing in your life that is not ballet-related. I dare you, Hytes!” The words cut deeply, even though Steve tried to soften his voice. 

Brooke opened her mouth, ready to contradict him, knowing without a doubt, that there was more to her life than ballet. 

But all her mind supplied was _Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa._

Stuck in a loop of images of the one thing that was not in Brooke’s life, she felt stuck. All other words disappeared, while her name was on the tip of her tongue. 

Steve smiled sadly at her, probably already knowing what Brooke was thinking.   
  
“Brooke… I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m not trying to hit you over the head.” Despite Brooke’s huff, he continued. “I’m really not, what you’ve accomplished is amazing, and no one will ever be able to take that away from you. Fastest to become Prima in 30 years. That’s not just amazing, it’s unbelievable.” Brooke could feel there was a large but, waiting to be spoken into existence. 

The way that Steve was tilting his head at her a big tell that he was about to say something that would make her uncomfortable. 

“But… Ballet is not a career that lasts forever... That stage will leave you behind, and then what? You’ll be sitting in your apartment all alone, staring at scrapbooks of your glory days? Or will you actually live in the present?” Steve never raised his voice, everything about him soft and kind. It was clear that he wanted Brooke to realise something. 

The problem was that Brooke simply had no answer to his riddle. 

* * *

**_22nd of March 2018, New York, NY_ **

_The late hour usually meant that the whole building was closed off, completely empty and silent. Most of the staff and the dancers usually treasured their days off, enjoying some time to rest their aching feet and spend some time outside of the NYC drama._

_But the big and airy studio at the end of the hall was lit up, even though the music had long stopped._

_Brooke, Violet, Steve, and Milk were all lying on the floor, still trying to catch their breath after the long training session they’d had for the last couple of hours. They had worked tirelessly on a variation of a pas de deux from “Swan Lake” going over the movements together to ensure that they wouldn’t embarrass themselves tomorrow when they had the final rehearsal before roles were cast._

_“Okay. What will you guys do after ballet?” Steve’s voice mixed in with the heavy breathing, his question hanging in the air only for a second._

_“Already thinking about quitting, Steve-o?” Violet and Brooke joined in on the laughter while Steve waved them off._

_“Shut up, Milk!” That only seemed to make Milk laugh harder, while Brooke felt a knot of worry form in her stomach._

_Was he quitting?_

_He couldn’t._

_“That’s not you denying it, though.” Brooke forced herself to rise into a sitting position on the floor, needing to look Steve in the eyes to gage if he was seriously thinking about leaving, or if it was just Milk being an idiot._

_“Trophy wife,” Violet’s deadpan voice distracted Brooke from asking Steve any further, as she turned to look at Violet shrugging assuredly._

_“Vi, don’t you need to get married before you reach that point?” Brooke couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice, Violet’s unfazed expression impressive in its own right._

_“Oh, honey, there’s no way that Sutan isn’t going to propose to me within the next month or so,” the way she said is so surely made Brooke swallow, thinking about her own dreams of marrying Vanessa someday._

_How could Violet be so sure of everything?_

_“Might want to go into the whole physical therapy area, could mean that I would stay in the building,” Milk said it dreamily, his voice quiet, as he was still lying on the floor, eyes closed and a small smile on his face._

_Brooke felt a creeping sense of dread slowly moving up her spine._

_What was her plan?_

_“Of course you would. Steve?” None of them questioned Milk’s dream, his way of always knowing what to do in the face of a potential injury had made him a legend amongst the dancers. Of course, he would use that skill after his time on the stage was over and done._

_The dread made Brooke’s muscles tense up, her body getting ready to run, the conversation going from fun to anxiety-inducing._

_She needed to get out of this._

_“Chicago.” Steve didn’t need to say more. Brooke knew what that one word meant, had heard Steve talk of his plans for months now._

_But the smile on his face seemed to indicate that such a future was probably not that far away._

_Fuck._

_“It's just a city, what do you want to do there, other than keep on banging Jon?” Milk opened his eyes, looking over at Steve._

_Everything started to become too real. This conversation not one Brooke needed nor wanted._

_She could feel her whole body vibrate with a need to leave, to get out of the room, yet at the same time she felt stuck._

_“Do I need to do more than that?” Steve waggling eyebrows made the rest of them laugh, though Brooke sounded hollow._

_“C’mon, man.”_

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

_“I was thinking about getting into talent management.” Both Violet and Milk nodded at him, while Brooke could tell where the conversation was going, as they all turned to look at her._

_“B?” Steve’s kind eyes did nothing to calm down Brooke’s nerves that felt like they were sounding off every single alarm inside of her._

_“Yeah?” She winced as her voice cracked, a too clear indication that she was not okay._

_She needed to get out._

_Now._

_“You haven’t said what you want to do?” Violet’s calculating look seemed to wake up Brooke’s body as she almost jumped off the floor, rushing to pack her things up._

_The blankness of her own mind at such a simple question was too much. Her hands shaking at the panic that was hitting her with the power of an avalanche._

_She needed to get out of there._

_Now._

_“I’ve got to get going.” The words stumbled out of her mouth, betraying her inner turmoil, instantly making all of them look at her with worry in their eyes._

_“Brooke…” Violet started to rise from the floor, but Brooke was already almost at the door, not caring that she had probably left something behind._

_The conversation was too real, too sudden._

_“Vanessa is waiting for me, so I’ll see you all tomorrow.” And with that, she left them all behind._

_Beyond thankful that none of them followed her._

* * *

**_15th of December 2019, Route 76, PA_ **

Travel days sucked. 

The way the road kept on going and going as they all tried to make time pass by just a little bit faster. At the moment most of them were huddled together watching RuPaul’s Drag Race - something Vanjie would’ve normally been right in the middle of. 

But her mind was still going over what Silky had said to her yesterday, cursing her friend for filling her with doubt over her decisions. 

Could she wait until Brooke was done with ballet? Could she manage to fight for Brooke’s attention for a couple of years, until ballet left her behind? 

Was she willing to do that? 

_Should_ she be willing to do that? 

Ninety-eight percent of her was still firmly planted on a big and loud fuck no. 

_But them shitty 2 percent were getting louder and louder._

She had thought about texting Brooke the whole day, only ever getting as far as to unlocking her phone before she thought better of it. 

Why should _she_ text first?

It was Brooke that had been the bigger bitch of the two of them. 

Brooke that had shown her a goddamn engagement ring like that was supposed to fix a single fucking thing. 

_Ain’t no way Vanjie was crawling back to her._

Instead, she was scrolling through Facebook liking and commenting on Silky’s messy ass photos, missing her girl more than words could ever explain. 

She was still giggling at Silky post of a picture of her riding a tiny scooter, while she scrolled further down. Though it got caught in her throat when she was suddenly met with a different picture. 

An old one. 

**_On this day - three years ago._ **

Vanjie had forgotten about that day. The picture almost felt like it was from a completely different time. The candles on the table, the blankets that were piled high and Brooke. 

Beautiful Brooke, with her tired eyes, sweet expression, and a big smile.

_**When your girl needs a lil romance and you deliver big time! - with Brooke Lynn Hytes** _

* * *

**_15th of December 2016, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie was still fiddling with the app on her iPad, trying to figure out how to make it work with sound when the door opened._

_“Trust her to be on time this day of all,” she mumbled to herself as she put down the iPad, deciding that it was better to have it without sound than not at all._

_“Hi, ‘Ness, how are you-” Brooke faltered as she seemed to finally look over everything Vanjie had done to their living room._

_Vanjie couldn’t stop the proud smile that was forming as she noted the way Brooke’s eyes widened._

_“What’s all this?” The amazement in her voice made Vanjie giddy, as she surveyed the room._

_All the lights were turned off, Vanjie having placed candles all over the room in strategic places to give it that romantic glow, that turned up in all them hallmark movies._

_She had found every single blanket that they owned and piled them onto the couch, while an array of Brooke’s favourite snacks were aesthetically dumped into bowls and placed on the coffee table._

_To top it all off, she had downloaded an app of a fireplace on her iPad to give it that romantic retreat feel._

_“I’m being romantic, can’t you tell?” Vanjie felt a bit coy, a bit smooth, and a whole lotta ‘best girlfriend’ material._

_Brooke walked closer, leaning down to give her a kiss that felt like ten different love declarations piled into one soft glide of their lips._

_Vanjie felt like her heart was going to burst from the happiness of seeing Brooke looking so calm and delighted, all because of something Vanjie had done._

_“I certainly can. What’s the reason?” Brooke had pulled back a little, her hand reaching up to caress Vanjie’s cheek._

_“No other reason than I love you.” Unconsciously, Vanjie lowered her voice a bit, suddenly feeling shy at saying the words out loud, but Brooke held her gaze, looking like she was the only thing in the world that mattered._

_“Well, I love you, too.” The spark of pure joy that hit Vanjie almost made her jump right into the air._

_Brooke saying those words would never get old._

_“Bitch, you better. I got them good candles and everything!” Brooke’s laughter made all the planning worth it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frey is the best and I am slowly dying over this challenge.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this!


	16. Carol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Brooke, we need to talk.” Steve was casually leaning against the table in the dressing room that she was sharing with Violet for the evening as Brooke was removing her makeup. 
> 
> “What now?” Brooke’s tone was sharp, everything inside of her tense, tired, in pain, and so very done with this day. 
> 
> “Steve, you’re being way too kind to her.” Violet walked into the room, lightly bumping against Steve’s shoulder before her fiery eyes landed on Brooke. “Listen up B, either you go out and have sex with someone… I don’t know, Carol from the lobby, or you get your shit together.”

**_16th of December 2019, Columbus, OH_ **

“Hello, hello, hello, miss Vanjie!” The loud and boisterous voice made Vanjie jump up from her chair in sheer joy, almost knocking over her tall vanilla decaf frappé in her hurry to reach what she knew would be the most perfect hug in the world.

“NINA!” Screeching louder than she needed, Vanjie jumped into the awaiting arms, Nina catching her and giving her a hug that rivalled that of her own Mama.

_Fuck, she had missed her._

“Bitch, you came!” Vanjie snuggled closer into the hug, letting herself be enveloped in the smell of home-baked cookies, roses, and coffee. Despite being a hardworking actress, Nina still managed to hold the aura of a daycare worker. 

Vanjie loved it more than anything in the world. 

“You think there was any chance that I would miss out on seeing you rakaka-ing all over the stage in my hometown, sweetie?” Nina released her, looking down at her with a large smile before her eyes started to roam all over the dressing room. “Nice digs.” The small smirk told Vanjie that Nina was being a sarcastic shit. 

The room was small and dark, but Vanjie had it to herself at the moment, everybody else piling into the big one filled with lights. 

“Just cause you an Emmy nominated hoe, don’t mean you get to act all high and mighty, miss West.” Vanjie pulled on Nina’s hand as she walked further into the room, knowing that they would be more comfortable sitting down, than standing in the middle of the hallway. 

And then maybe they could keep away from the gossipy little shits that she called her fellow dancers. 

Nina sat down, her eyes sparkly with that signature Nina West joy that made Vanjie warm from the inside out. 

“So, how you’ve been?” Vanjie couldn’t help but scoff at the question, such a Nina thing to act like she knew nothing. 

“Nina West, don’t be giving me that look I know you’ve kiki’ed with Brooke already.” She rolled her eyes as she busied herself with taking a sip from her coffee, knowing that Nina was probably getting ready to launch one of her motherly talks. 

“What are you talking about?” Except Nina sounded genuinely confused. As Vanjie looked up at her, Nina’s brows were wrinkled in puzzlement, everything about her screaming that she truly didn’t know what the fuck Vanjie was talking about. 

_That couldn’t be._

“What? Don’t be playin’ me now.” Vanjie couldn’t decide if Brooke not telling Nina anything was a good or bad thing. 

Should she feel insulted or not? 

“Hon, Brooke rarely tells me anything these days. It’s been almost two weeks since I last caught up with her.” Nina’s words made no sense. Vanjie remembered how Brooke and Nina had a set day for catching up during the week, those two always managing to make time for each other, no matter the distance or time zone. 

“Shut up.” Two weeks?

“It’s true. But going by your face something clearly happened while you were in New York, so?” Nina shimmied in her chair, leaning back and clearly getting herself ready for what she probably knew was going to be some prime-time gossip. 

“We were idiots and played Branjie for a week.” Vanjie couldn’t look Nina in the eyes as she said it, her hands fiddling with the too-long sleeves of her sweatshirt. 

Saying it out loud, to Nina of all people, only seemed to underline their stupidity. 

“You did what?” The high pitch of her voice made Vanjie flinch, as not even her talented acting ass, could pull off such a ruse. 

Vanjie didn’t know if she should feel insulted or not, that Brooke hadn’t even told Nina about it. 

“Yeah… She even had a day off and came to the show and-”

"I'm sorry what. A day off?" Nina raised a hand, stopping Vanjie before she got any further, her eyes wide with some unnameable emotion that left Vanjie feeling slightly disoriented. 

_What the fuck was going on?_

"Yeah, so?" She couldn’t help but shrug, not really getting what was making Nina look that shocked. 

"Vanj. Are you telling me that Brooke Lynn Hytes, Prima Ballerina of the New York City Ballet, had a whole day where she didn't do anything ballet-related?" when she put it like that, Vanjie’s mind seemed to slowly catch up. 

"Uh-uh." 

When had Brooke even taken a day off voluntarily when they’d been together?

"And you still think that she doesn't love you enough?” At Vanjie’s slow nod, Nina let out a huffing laugh with no humour behind it, “Honey, what more you want, a marriage proposal?" Nina shook her head at her, while Vanjie couldn’t help but remember the feeling of catching that stupid ass ring box.

“Bitch, like you don’t know about the ring!” Vanjie couldn’t help but raise her voice, this whole charade getting real old real quick. 

The way Nina’s mouth opened and closed for a second, almost as if Vanjie’s words were undecipherable, made Vanjie feel completely caught off guard. 

“SHE SHOWED YOU THE RING?” Nina yelled the words, clearly not noticing or caring that she didn’t need to. Nina’s hand grasped Vanjie’s arm pulling her forward, the urgency in her eyes making Vanjie want to drop the conversation altogether. 

Why was everybody all about that stupid ring? 

“Yeah, a year too late, so what about it, Nina?” The words tasted somewhat sour as they left Vanjie’s lips, her blasé tone so very far from how she truly felt. 

_The box still haunted her_. 

The idea that Brooke had truly contemplated proposing. After leaving, Vanjie had called Shuga, needing to know if Brooke had been lying about planning for her to have a week off to go to Paris. 

She hadn’t. 

The whole plan had been real, though Shuga didn’t know anything about a ring, only the trip to Paris. 

_What the fuck did all of this mean?_

* * *

**_17th of February 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Sitting in the library, studying for Dance history was one of the last things in the world that Vanjie wanted to do tonight._

_She wanted to hide under her covers and binge some more ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’._

_Yet, there she was._

_Trying to understand the different Russian names, while also sneaking glances over at Brooke, who was sitting across from her, hands moving at the speed of light, trying to finish some paper that Vanjie didn’t give a fuck about._

_Vanjie did more looking than reading. The tiny focused crease between Brooke’s brows too cute._

_If Vanjie had been a bit braver, she would have leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss there, hoping that it would smooth out._

_“I come bearing gifts for the hard-working dance students,” Nina’s voice seemed to do the trick, as Brooke’s serious and focused expression instantly turned into one of sheer delight, her eyes shining as she turned her face towards the voice._

_Vanjie could smell the sweet and delicious brownies that she had come to know as Nina’s trademark studying treat. Her mouth was already watering, as Nina placed a brown paper bag on the table._

_“Nina, baby. Please, with a cherry on top, will you marry me?” Vanjie turned to look at Nina._

_“Ness, I called dibs on her before you even arrived here.” Brooke small smirk clearly meant that the bitch thought she was being clever._

_Too bad, Vanjie was smoother than that._

_“Yes, but miss Nina is a lady. She ain’t some side chick you call dibs on, you ask her, wine and dine her and everything, Mami!” Vanjie bit her lip from laughing at Brooke’s wide-eyed stare, her mouth open, though no words left._

_Vanjie 1 - Brooke 0._

_Nina’s loud guffaws could be heard throughout the whole library, almost managing to get them kicked out._

* * *

_**16th of December 2019, New York, NY** _

The moment Brooke stepped into the small and quaint café she knew something was up. Steve had asked her there, to meet up for Brunch before he left for Chicago. 

However, he hadn’t said anything about brunch also including a clearly disinterested Violet, who seemed more engaged in her phone than whatever Steve was saying to her. 

Brooke took a deep breath and walked over the table, already feeling more than a little apprehensive, as Steve lifted his head to give her a sheepish smile. 

_Oh, no._

“Hi B.” The fake cheer in his voice instantly made Brooke want to back out of the room and run for the hills. This was not a farewell brunch. 

_This was a brunch of lies._

“Hey?” Yet, Brooke couldn’t leave now. So she resigned herself to her fate and sat down in the chair that was clearly meant for her. 

Violet still looked down at her phone. 

“So... You’re probably-” Brooke cut him off, already knowing where it was going, but hoping that she was wrong. 

“Steve. Please don’t tell me that this is an intervention.” The sigh from Violet made Brooke’s hope dwindle, while Steve avoided eye contact, looking down at the table instead. 

“Okay, I won’t.” Brooke really should have left while she had the chance. 

“Then I will. It’s an intervention because I need you to get your act together, Hytes,” Violet finally deigned the conversation worth joining as she put down her phone, not caring that it hit the table with a harsh sound. 

She was looking at Brooke with a scowl on her face. 

“Vi!” Steve’s indignant cry did nothing to lessen Violet’s annoyance, as she turned to look at him, ignoring Brooke for a moment. 

“What? Look at her. It’s a disgrace.” Brooke let the insult slide as Violet pointed at her. 

Though the way that Steve appeared to nod his agreement did make a spark of irritation settle in her stomach. 

“Okay… So an intervention?” She knew the smile on her lips was only thinly veiling her annoyance at this whole affair.

“No. Just… Here.” Steve shook his head, clearly deciding that words weren’t going to cut it, as he handed her a plane ticket. Looking it over she saw that it had her name on.

Departing tomorrow morning.

_What the hell?_

“Chicago? Steve, I’ve got a performance tomorrow I can’t just go with you-” 

“Vanessa will be there tomorrow.” Violet’s eyes begged her to understand where they were going with this. Brooke felt her mouth go dry, the memory of Vanessa’s angry words and furious slam of the door still reverberating inside her head. 

“And?” Brooke knew her voice was cracking, even on that single syllable. The hand holding the ticket was shaking a bit. 

They couldn’t possibly be thinking that this was a good idea. 

“Brooke. You guys need to talk.” Steve leaned forward, trying to make Brooke look at him, his eyes kind with a dash of worry. 

“You don’t get to decide that.” Brooke could feel the anger flowing through her veins, her annoyance at them trying to take over her life, simmering softly. “And I can’t go, anyway. I have a performance tomorrow.” There was no way that she would be allowed to take a day off. 

“No, you don’t, because I am making sure that they are actually getting their money’s worth.” Trust Violet to cover her own kindness with an insult. “So, please, take your sulking ass to Seattle and talk it out with Vanjie!”

_Shady bitch._

Brooke could see Steve shake his head at Violet, clearly regretting that he invited her with him. While Violet looked intensely at Brooke, clearly waiting for her to give her an answer. 

Except Brooke didn’t have one. 

The idea of going and talking with Vanessa filled her with a sense of dread that honestly made her feel a bit sick. 

* * *

**_14th of March 2019, New York, NY_ **

_“Brooke, we need to talk.” Steve was casually leaning against the table in the dressing room that she was sharing with Violet for the evening as Brooke was removing her makeup._

_“What now?” Brooke’s tone was sharp, everything inside of her tense, tired, in pain, and so very done with this day._

_She knew that she was being unfair, but she just couldn’t find it in her to care._

_Brooke was so over everything. Life feeling grey and dreary. The only time she truly felt alive was when she was dancing. Every other moment only managed to remind Brooke that she was going home to an empty apartment and an emptier life._

_“Steve, you’re being way too kind to her.” Violet walked into the room, lightly bumping against Steve’s shoulder before her fiery eyes landed on Brooke. “Listen up B, either you go out and have sex with someone… I don’t know, Carol from the lobby, or you get your shit together.” Brooke was close to laughing at the idea of sleeping with Carol, but the serious look on both of their faces made her stop._

_“What are you talking about?” Brooke felt confused at Violet’s hard tone. Sure, she had been a bit more snappy over the last couple of weeks, but surely not enough to merit this type of intervention._

_“Brooke. You made Ivy cry today,” Steve said it softly, while Brooke went over her day, sure that she would never have done such a thing._

_Ivy was the woman that made sure that all of them got there on time. The sweetest and loveliest person in the company._

_There was no way that she had made Ivy cry._

_Yet, she remembered making a big deal out of a time call, yelling a bit, and behaving like a spoiled brat._

_Fuck._

_“I know we just made Prima, but that doesn’t excuse your diva tendencies over the last month, B!” Violet’s words made Brooke’s stomach turn into knots._

_“I didn’t realise th-”_

_“We know. But now we’ve told you, so you need to shut it down. If that means that you have to talk, fuck, or hug it out, then do that.” Brooke could feel the tears prick at the back of her eyes as she realised how horrible her behaviour had been._

_Steve placed a hand on her shoulder, though it felt more like pity than comfort in that single moment._

_“Brooke, all I care about is you going back to being the professional that we all know and love because this prima donna bullshit is decidedly not cute.” Violet walked over to her side of the room, turning her back to Brooke, missing the completely devastated look upon her face as her words truly sank in._

_“I’m sorry.” She wanted to curl up and die, the embarrassment over her own behaviour too much for her to handle as she looked down at her own hands._

_Steve continued to rub her shoulder, though it did nothing to soothe her guilty consciousness._

_She really needed to apologise to Ivy._

_“Don’t be. Just fix it, okay?” Violet’s voice was soft, as she suddenly appeared next to her, pressing a soft kiss on top of her head._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. 
> 
> How are we feeling?


	17. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing here, Brooke?” she ran a hand over her face, the post-performance fatigue starting to set in, while Brooke looked slightly nauseous, trembling a bit against the cold. 
> 
> Vanjie did everything she could to not read anything into the fact that Brooke was wearing that red scarf. 
> 
> “I-I am not entirely sure, to be honest,” the small huff of laughter that followed was harsh as if she was annoyed with herself for not knowing. 
> 
> Join the club, B. 

**_17th of December 2019, Chicago, IL_ **

_ What am I doing?  _

The question had been running around in circles inside Brooke’s mind ever since she had accepted the plane ticket, Violet and Steve looking for all the world like they had thought that she would put up more of a fight. 

Maybe she should have. 

Maybe she should have told them to butt out of her life, to respect the fact that she and Vanessa were clearly idiots who couldn’t make it work. Maybe she should have refused to go on the plane, refused to follow along with this romcom plan that had no use in real life. 

Except she hadn’t. 

Brooke had followed along with Steve, silently enduring the almost three-hour flight, while her mind was repeating one single question. 

_ What am I doing?  _

She had left Steve at the airport, knowing that if she was actually going to do this, she needed to be alone. Needed to figure out if she was actually going to do this. 

So she had walked around the city for hours, her trench coats barely keeping the cold at bay, while she sunk deeper into her red scarf.

_ What am I doing? _

As the sky darkened, she found her thoughts following, feeling dumber by the second for thinking that this was even remotely close to being a good idea. Somehow she had kept on going, finally finding herself outside the venue long after the concert had begun. 

Not for the first time, Brooke wished that she smoked, so she had something to put her anxiety into. Instead, she could just stand outside, the glinting Christmas lights her only comfort against the ridiculous Chicago wind. 

_ What am I doing?  _

As people started to slowly walk out and then almost stampeding out of the doors, Brooke knew that she would soon need to figure out what to do. 

What to say. 

She had no plan, not really. All she knew was that she needed to talk with Vanessa. Needed to see her face once more. 

_ What am I doing? _

She walked around the stadium, slowly getting closer to the large busses and trucks. She felt like an idiot. She might not even catch Vanessa here. There was a big chance that security would stop her before she even got close enough. 

All of this was stupid. 

For a moment, she wanted to turn around, wanted to disappear before Vanessa ever saw her. 

What  _ was _ she doing? 

Yet, as she walked closer she didn’t get stopped, not even an extra glance. 

And then suddenly. 

There she was, walking out of the building in baggy sweats with a big smile on her face. Brooke didn’t think or hesitate for a single second. 

“Vanessa!” The yell made her stopped instantly, looking around until her eyes widened as they settled on Brooke. 

_“Brooke?!”_

* * *

**_21st of March 2013, New York, NY_ **

_It was getting ridiculous. This dance they were doing with each other. One step forward and what felt like 23 back. Every time Brooke thought that they were getting somewhere, something seemed to happen._

_Every time she was about to lean in and kiss Vanessa, they’d get interrupted. Every time she was just about to do something that seemed less like a friend and more like a girlfriend, Vanessa would wave her off, get shy or suddenly need to leave._

_Brooke wasn’t dumb, and normally she would’ve taken a hint long ago and stopped her advances._

_Except, there were times when Vanessa would look at her with this glint in her eyes, asking her to try again, even if they had been interrupted this time._

_And Brooke did._

_Try, that is._

_Again and again, the moment always somehow, someway getting ruined._

_Even now, sitting in the cafeteria, looking at Vanessa trying to muster up a single note of cheer over the bland kale salads in front of them, Brooke could feel the courage gather at the pit of her stomach._

_She would do it._

_“‘Ness?” the words were there, she had gone over them too many times to count, she just needed to actually say them._

_“Yeah, B?” Her nose wrinkled slightly at the salad before she looked up at Brooke, her warm brown eyes instantly filling Brooke with a swarm of butterflies._

_“Would you want to-” the bang of tray hitting the table interrupted Brooke, as both of them turned to look at the source of the sound._

_“Bitch, you guys heard how Edwards ripped apart a third-year in morning class?” Asia dumped down next to them, Brooke sighing to herself, knowing that this talk would have to wait just a little longer._

* * *

**_17th of December 2019, Chicago, IL_ **

Vanjie was still shook, still completely caught off guard, looking at Brooke standing outside the big ass stadium, clearly trembling from the cold. 

What the fuck was she doing here? 

Vanjie felt like she was being pulled in two directions, a part of her ecstatic that Brooke was there, while a slightly bigger part of her was furious. Annoyed that Brooke had just decided to show up in fucking Chicago with no invite, no text of warning, no nothing. 

Vanjie could feel her blood boil a bit, standing in front of her, knowing that she probably only had 10 minutes before Daniel wouldn’t be able to hold off the bus driver any more. 

“What are you doing here, Brooke?” she ran a hand over her face, the post-performance fatigue starting to set in, while Brooke looked slightly nauseous, trembling a bit against the cold. 

Vanjie did everything she could to not read anything into the fact that Brooke was wearing that red scarf. 

“I-I am not entirely sure, to be honest,” the small huff of laughter that followed was harsh as if she was annoyed with herself for not knowing. 

_ Join the club, B.  _

“What does that even mean?” Vanjie was not up for this, the talk with Nina still playing hopscotch inside her head. She was tired, cold and not in any way equipped to deal with a surprise Brooke. 

“I don’t know,” If Vanjie had been less annoyed and more awake she would have tried to force the words out of Brooke. She would have asked more questions, poked a bit and coerced the truth out of her. 

She knew the tricks, had written the fucking book on “How To Make Hytes Speak the Fuck Up” and could probably hold a TED talk on the subject. 

But she was so done with it all. Done with Brooke not even giving her a head’s up, still angry over the words that had been said back in the apartment. 

She was just done. 

“B, c’mon! Did you think that you could just show up and be all  _ girl standing in front of a girl asking her to love her _ Julia Roberts but make it The Holiday with a splash of The Notebook?” Vanjie knew that her voice had risen, knew that she was making a fucking scene, and didn’t care a single bit. 

“I don’t know what I thought,” Vanjie’s words seemed to have made Brooke shrink in on herself, her anger making Brooke look impossibly small. 

“Me fucking neither,” the irritation mixed itself with her exhaustion, as Vanjie curled her hands into tiny fists, walking a step towards Brooke, ignoring the way her eyes were slightly shiny, “We broke up, and sure we had fun last week, but we would have the same problems if we started up again, just with the added bullshit of living at opposite ends of the country. You do see that, right?” 

For a moment Vanjie couldn’t help but take note of the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Brooke looking completely out of place in her fancy clothes at a back entrance to the stadium, while Vanjie was dressed in sweats. 

_The ballerina and the hood rat. Always and forever, huh?_

“Of course I do. But maybe I am willing to give it a go anyway,” the love in Brooke’s eyes was like looking into the past. It would be so easy for Vanjie to be seduced by it. 

To fall into it. 

_To drown in it._

“Well, maybe I ain’t.” Vanjie knew those words were wrong the moment the left her lips. The lie tasting bitter. 

“Oh,” Brooke’s face crumbled for a moment, that single sound holding a million words. Too many to decipher. 

Not that Vanjie needed to.

She knew the particular brand of disappointment that was edged into every nook and cranny of Brooke’s face quite well. 

“Don’t, Mami. Don’t give me that face,” the nickname slipped out before she could stop herself, could see that way it almost made Brooke topple over in pain. 

She really needed to get going before her tired ass brain made her spout more stupid shit. 

“Aight, I need to get going, and I bet you do too,” suddenly Vanjie looked back at Brooke, something not sitting right with this whole thing, “How you even here? Weren’t you ‘sposed to be performing tonight?” 

Vanjie had looked over Brooke’s work calendar, had embarrassingly decided to memorise, not knowing if it would become important later. 

And she distinctly remembered that Brooke was performing on the 17th. 

“I was… But Violet covered for me,” Brooke said it like it was no big deal, shrugging lightly. 

Vanjie’s mind blanked for a moment, almost not believing the words. 

“You… Got someone else to cover for you? You?” Brooke had never once in her whole career called in sick, never had anyone cover for her, not once. 

Vanjie knew this. It was a part of Brooke that she had both admired and hated. 

And now the bitch had gone and done it. For _her_? 

_What the fuck?_

“Yeah, but… I see all of this was stupid anyway, I’ll just-” Brooke was already retreating, clearly ready to run away, but now Vanjie wanted her to stay.

_Needed her to stay._

“Brooke, I-”

“Vanj? You getting on the bus or what?” The loud yell from Daniel made Vanjie want to scream in powerlessness. 

“No, like you said. You need to leave, and I’ve got a plane to catch,” the hitch in Brooke’s voice was too much. Vanjie wanted to say something.

_ Anything.  _

She opened her mouth but realised that none would come out, all of them stuck somewhere inside of her throat. 

Brooke sent her a sad smile before she turned around and away. 

_ Fuck.  _

* * *

**_23rd of March 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Contrary to popular belief, Vanjie wasn’t dumb. She might sound like a street kid who was raised by a Latina mama in a black neighbourhood, but her brain worked just fine._

_She saw the way people looked down on her, saw the way they would sometimes whisper behind her back._

_She noted all of that, kept the receipts close to her heart for someday in the future when she would be out touring the world, while these bitches would be stuck teaching ballet to juniors._

_None of that mattered though when you had Brooke Lynn Hytes look at you like you were the sun._

_Vanjie had noticed it for a couple of months now, the way that Brooke would light up like a Christmas tree the moment her eyes would settle on Vanjie. The way that icy exterior melted and left behind the most beautiful and warm person._

_Vanjie knew that something was brewing between them. The small touches and the secret smiles. They both knew where they were heading, the electricity that seemed to bubble up to the surface whenever they were in proximity to each other clearly indicating that there was something there._

_And well…_

_Vanjie could tell that Brooke wanted to ask her out. From the way she kept on starting a conversation every now and then only to either be interrupted by a peer, the beep of a phone or something third._

_The way Brooke would swallow her words and plaster on a smile, that was only just managing to hide her annoyance._

_She did it every single time, and Vanjie felt like a bad person for finding it a bit funny._

_Even now, sitting in front of Brooke in the library with Asia and Nina sitting next to them, she could tell that Brooke was putting on her polite facade, even though she really wanted to be alone with Vanjie._

_But it was fine._

_Vanjie could wait._

_Her and Brooke felt like they were inevitable._

_Like it was written in the stars that they should end up together._

_Vanjie knocked her foot against Brooke’s under the table, sending her a soft smile, as Brooke looked at her questioningly._

_The slow and genuine smile that slowly spread over Brooke’s lips made Vanjie’s insides flutter like a thousand butterflies._

_They could wait._

_Because no matter when it happened, Vanjie knew that they would be perfect._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3


	18. Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.” The dry southern drawl made Brooke turn around faster than she thought was possible. “You out here embarrassing me, Hytes?” Alyssa was leaning against the door to the studio, her big and expressive eyes wide in an unimpressed look that took Brooke back to training sessions from the past. 
> 
> “No, I’ve just-”
> 
> “Been mopping and sulking and taking it out on this poor rehearsal studio.”

**_18th of December 2019, Minneapolis, MN_ **

Vanjie hadn’t slept a wink during the night. Her mind had played over the conversation with Brooke again and again. The words she’d said, the things she’d thought, and Brooke’s face.

The way she’d looked so tired, so worn.

_So sad._

Vanjie had wanted to stop the bus, wanted to run after Brooke, to text her, to call her.

Something.

But she hadn’t. Couldn’t. 

In the early morning hours, Vanjie had truly realised that she’d fucked up in a way that was probably non-reversible. 

The fact that Brooke had not just gone to fucking Chicago, but had taken a day off from a performance, was almost too big of a gesture to understand. 

Brooke didn’t do that. She had never ever done that. 

And Vanjie had just sent her away. 

_Fuck._

Even now, sitting alone in the hotel room that she was sharing with Plastique, she felt herself cringe at the way she hadn’t really let Brooke talk. 

The knock at the door pulled Vanjie out of her downward spiralling thoughts, Daniel walking through the door and closing it softly behind him. 

“Well, don’t you look like shit, Vanj?” His eyes were kind as he sat down beside her, gently bumping her shoulder. 

“Fuck you, too.” There was no heat behind her words, she was too tired, too burdened by her own sadness to muster up a single bit of indignation at his words. 

_To be fair, she did look like shit._

“You’ve texted her?” Daniel wasn’t known to beat around the bush, so Vanjie shouldn’t have been surprised that he wasn’t wasting any time in getting to the point. Yet, she still found herself raising a single brow at him.

_The fucking nerve of him._

“No. What am I ‘sposed to say? Hi, B, sorry I sent you away, wanna talk?” Vanjie couldn’t help but scoff at the idea. To her own ears, it sounded like the worst one ever, but Daniel just smiled at her.

“That sounds like a start.” His dry tone and shrug made the annoyance blossom inside Vanjie’s chest. 

“Nah, it sounds like a shitty cop-out. Bitch deserves better than that.” Vanjie looked down at her hands, trying hard to forget the look in Brooke’s eyes as she had been dismissed. 

“Yeah, she kinda does.” As Vanjie looked back up at Daniel, he merely raised a brow, daring her to contradict him, knowing that she wouldn’t.

_Still._

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Vanjie couldn’t help but feel hurt by the way that Daniel’s loyalty seemed to be dwindling. She knew that she was being unfair, but, goddammit, he was her friend. 

“And I am agreeing with you, what more could you want?” Though he had a small smile on his lips, it was clear that he was over Vanjie’s self-pity. 

“I dunno, make me feel less like shit?” She wasn’t up for the tough love that she was getting. She would have called Kiki for that, but it was clear that Daniel didn’t actually care all that much about what Vanjie wanted right now. 

“Why? So you can go back to LA and sulk over that pretty ex of yours some more?” His voice dropped a bit, as he took Vanjie’s clenched hands into his. “Vanjie. She did the whole rom-com thing that no one actually believes exists and you sent her away.” His eyes implored Vanjie to understand him.

“I know.” Vanjie still felt ashamed, her voice soft as she forced herself to keep the eye contact with Daniel, even though everything inside of her wanted her to turn away. 

“And you live for that sort of thing.” Again with that fucking eyebrow, Daniel almost daring her to contradict him.

“I. Know.” Vanjie spit out the words, as she ripped her hands from his loose grip. 

Sure, he was right, but he really didn’t have to come that hard for her. 

“Then what are you going to do about it?” 

_That was it._

“I don’t fucking know,” as she said it, she jumped up from the bed, her body vibrating with anger. “If I did, I would probably already be doing it, Dan!” 

She was angry at herself for being an idiot, and at Daniel for agreeing with her. 

“I think you know what to do, I just don’t think that you want to accept it.” His calm words made no sense to her, making her scoff at his low budget da Vinci code. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You going on all Master Miyagi on me now with all these riddles?” The sudden burst of energy in her body needed to get used, she could feel herself boiling as she started to pace across the tiny room, Daniel still sitting calm and collected on the bed, his eyes worriedly following her every movement. 

“Vanj, you know.” 

_She really didn’t._

* * *

**_22nd of February 2019, Los Angeles, LA_ **

_The door slammed behind Vanjie as she dropped exhausted onto her own couch, every single part of her body tired beyond belief._

_Rehearsals had been gruelling, but also a welcoming task. The sad cloud of heartbreak still had a tendency to take up residence over her head, so it was nice to put her emotions on pause while she worked her ass off on the dance floor._

_Even now, as she was disappearing into her lumpy and old couch, her mind felt blessedly calm._

_Grabbing her phone she started scrolling through Instagram, a small part of her rejoicing in the fact that Brooke had never gotten around to getting one - it saved her from having to decide if she would be that stalker ex._

_But as she scrolled further down, she realised her mistake, as she was suddenly looking at a smiling Brooke._

_She was standing next to a just as happy Violet, their smiles bigger and wider than Vanjie had ever seen them before. They were in their leotards and tights, clearly rehearsing something, though what was unclear._

> _**ninawest, sutanamrull** & **239** others liked this.  
> _ _Violetchacki well it was about time! You’re looking at NYC’s new Primas.  
> _ _54 comments  
> _ _**Nevstevens** : legends  
> _ _**Bigandmilky** : yassss_

_Vanjie read it over and over again._

_The words started to blur, as she realised that she was crying. Tears silently falling down her cheeks, despite the big ass smile that was plastered onto her lips._

_Fuck, she’d really gone and done it._

_The pride that settled inside of Vanjie was too big. She needed to do something with it, wanted to call Brooke and congratulate her, wanted to like the photo and write a comment._

_But she couldn’t._

_That wasn’t her job anymore._

_The smile fell from her lips, while the tears kept on coming, as Vanjie realised that she had nowhere to put this happiness and pride anymore, that it wasn’t hers to have and feel._

_Brooke was in New York and Vanjie was here. She had left that life behind and she needed to let it go._

_Exiting the app, she didn’t even take a moment to think anything through, going over her contacts and hitting call before her mind truly realised what was up._

_“Hey, what’s up?”_

_“Hi, Kam. So about that drink…”_

* * *

**_18th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Brooke had no clue about how long she had been in the rehearsal studio. The residue anger and hurt that had been flowing around in her body ever since she had walked away from Vanessa. 

She’d spent the whole plane ride feeling the anger slowly settle into every nook and cranny of her body. 

Anger at Steve and Violet for making her believe that going to Chicago was a good idea. Anger at Vanessa for dismissing her before she even truly managed to say anything. And so much anger at herself for trying and retrying something she knew was doomed to fail. 

“Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.” The dry southern drawl made Brooke turn around faster than she thought was possible. “You out here embarrassing me, Hytes?” Alyssa was leaning against the door to the studio, her big and expressive eyes wide in an unimpressed look that took Brooke back to training sessions from the past. 

“No, I’ve just-”

“Been mopping and sulking and taking it out on this poor rehearsal studio.” Alyssa walked further into the room, tutting at Brooke as she looked her up and down. 

Brooke felt like a child that was being scolded by her mother, her shoulders already curling in on themselves as Alyssa stopped in front of her. 

“What do I always say, Brooke Lynn?” Slightly tipping her head up, Alyssa forced Brooke to look her in the eye. 

“It’s not personal, it’s ballet.” The sentence had been a mantra throughout all of Brooke’s time at Julliard, Alyssa drilling it into her every single time she went over Brooke’s form. 

“Exactly. Then why are you putting all your emotions into those tippy toes, huh? Where is that pure Ballerina form that I know, I taught your ass.” The sharp and raised eyebrow only managed to make Brooke feel even younger. 

That eyebrow never meant anything but disappointment.

“I’m not-” A single finger was placed on her lips, effectively shutting her up, before Brooke even had a chance at explaining herself. 

“No excuses. Ballet ain’t therapy, honey.” Alyssa walked back two steps and nodded at Brooke once, before she twirled her finger in the air, indicating that she wanted Brooke to take the variation from the top once more. 

“I know that.” Brooke let the words hang in the air for a moment, taking in a deep breath before she started. 

Alyssa’s eyes were zeroing in on every single element of her performance, walking close and constantly adjusting Brooke’s arms, tilting her head, and tapping her leg, reminding her to extend every limb to its fullest. 

“You’re a performer, baby, that’s what you do. And you’re good, probably one of the best. But ballet ain’t life. It’s just a hard floor and painful shoes, no feelings, no nothing except the high of performing.” The words weren’t new, the sentiment behind them something that Brooke had lived by when she had been at Julliard, 

Using her own feelings to fuel a performance didn’t make her good, being a method dancer was not a thing, and Alyssa had taught her that. 

Taught her that being a ballerina meant that you used your body as a vessel to convey the music. 

“I know.” Brooke stopped her dancing, tiredly looking over at Alyssa, her mind finally catching up with the tiredness of her body.

“Then why are you giving me angry Sugar Plum Fairy right now?” Alyssa gently cupped her cheek, reminding Brooke of all those times that she had been the closest thing to a parent figure in her life. “Where’s the poise and the beauty, the queenliness that this role is supposed to have, huh? What happened, baby?” The worry in her eyes made Brooke swallow against a sudden bout of emotions.

“Life?” She tried to smile a bit, as she shrugged, but Brooke knew that it was a wasted effort when standing in front of the woman that had taught her everything she knew. 

“Let me guess, Vanjie?” Even the mentioning of her name made a small ripple of anger run through her blood. 

_This was a mess._

“How did you know?” Brooke couldn’t help but be surprised. 

It wasn’t often that she saw Alyssa anymore after she had graduated, and the fact that she just instinctively knew what was wrong was both impressive and slightly frightening. 

“Because with you it’s always her.” She turned around and started walking towards the door. “Now you better start leaving those emotions at the door, and let ballet be ballet.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Don’t get cute.” looks Brooke over. “Honey, these floors won’t ever love you back, they don’t care ‘bout your life or your choices, all they care about are the moves. So don’t you dare spill out your heart here. You save that for outside. You save that for Vanjie.” 

And with that, she left. 

Leaving Brooke standing in the middle of the room, her emotions all over the place, as they usually were after hurricane Alyssa had been by. 

_What the fuck did any of that mean?_

* * *

**_8th of June 2019, New York, NY_ **

I _t had been a beautiful day, everything going exactly according to plan. Though Brooke was hard-pressed to imagine that even life would dare to make anything less than perfect on Violet Chachki’s wedding day._

_The ceremony had been perfect in all its fairytale details, Sutan shining like the sun from the moment Violet had started to walk down the aisle, Violet smiling herself, happiness radiating from her in a way Brooke couldn’t remember she had ever seen before. And Brooke couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to the little black box that was hidden underneath her socks._

_Violet looked radiant, the beautiful ivory wedding dress hugging her body in a way that made her look like she had just stepped off a runway in Paris. Her jet black hair coiffed and coiled, with a simple white veil._

_She was stunning, every bit the happy bride._

_Brooke could feel the jealousy rumble in her stomach. Felt it eating away her happiness until all she could feel was a bitterness that made her nauseous._

_It wasn’t fair the way that Violet and Sutan had managed to make it work, even when everything had been against them. Wasn’t fair how they managed to bring out the best parts of each other, spinning gold out of their tribulations, making Vanjie and Brooke look like a ship that was always meant to wreck by comparison._

_Brooke didn’t want to be that friend, the one that poured her own feelings over Violet’s big day, but she couldn’t stop._

_Her mind kept on wondering and wondering, going in circles until all that was left was a long list of questions that she had no answer to._

_Would Brooke and Vanessa’s day have been the same?_

_Would it have been grand and boisterous, much like Violet or Sutan’s? Or would they have instead opted to keep it low key, with fewer guests and more, much more intimacy?_

_Brooke could easily picture Vanessa openly crying when Brooke placed the gold ring on her finger, her hands trembling as she tried to hold back tears, much like Violet had done._

_She could imagine the laughs, the love, and the pure happiness that would radiate from both of them._

_But she would never know, would never be sure._

_Which was why the questions kept on adding up, the list growing longer as the day progressed._

_How would they have cut the cake, what type of speeches would have been made, and what would their first dance be to?_

_On and on and on they went._

_But Brooke had pushed all those emotions down, forced herself to smile and be happy. This day was not about her, it was about Violet and Sutan._

_So Brooke had done her duties at the wedding party, had played her part as the maid of honour - an honour she was still befuddled by._

_She had helped to make the veil fold just so for the pictures, had seamlessly fended off the impressive amount of drunk uncles, and had even fetched Violet and Sutan from the wardrobe when no one could find them for the cake cutting - the two making out like teenagers amongst the coats._

_Brooke had merely handed Sutan a wet wipe to remove the remains of Violet’s lipstick, hoping that the small smile on her lips would hide the way she felt like she was dying on the inside._

_Even now, sitting at the bar, nursing the same glass of wine that she had been sipping from the whole evening, Brooke felt emotionally exhausted._

_“Loved your speech,” the soft voice to her left snapped Brooke out of her pathetic sulking, as she turned to look to its owner. “Very generic, mind you, but in a good way,”_

_Brooke couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the snark, as she looked the woman over. She had never seen her before, the dark hair and deep brown eyes warm and beautiful in a way that Brooke would have remembered._

_“Thanks?” she knew that her smile probably looked confused, but judging by the slight smirk on the woman’s lips, it didn’t matter._

_“Name’s Priyanka.” She reached out a long and slender hand, the manicure immaculate in a way that Brooke could only dream of. Too scared of ripping something apart on stage to ever had that done herself._

_“I’m Brooke.” Grasping her hand, Brooke marvelled at the soft touch, and as she looked into Priyanka’s eyes, she realised that she wasn’t letting go of Brooke’s hand, instead softly letting a thumb run a small circle on her hand._

_Oh._

_“I know. Now how about we get you a new drink? I’ve seen you with that same glass of wine for at least an hour.” For the first time in months, Brooke felt something stir in her stomach, something that decidedly was neither sadness or bitterness._

_“I hate to be that person, but how did you pronounce your name again?” Brooke had lowered her voice, leaning forward as her eyes drifted from Priyanka’s eyes to her lips and back up again._

_“If you let me buy you a drink, I promise I’ll have you scream it at the end of the night.”_

_Oh._


	19. Ribbons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Vanessa had first aired the idea, Brooke thought it was a joke. The idea that the two of them should perform together seemed almost implausible. It wasn’t that Brooke didn’t have any trust in her girlfriend’s dance skills, quite the contrary, she felt that her own skills would pale in comparison to those of Vanessa’s. 
> 
> This wasn’t ballet. This was something completely different. A mix of modern jazz ballet, gymnastics, and acting. It was raw and feral, emotional and truly something new. 
> 
> Vanessa wanted to perform it for her choreography exam, and given that she was allowed to bring in whoever she wanted, she had chosen Brooke. 
> 
> It had taken a bit of pleading, a lot of convincing, and one very memorable Sunday afternoon spent in bed before Brooke agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of this chapter making sense, I think it would be best to watch this video first: https://fuckyeahchinesefashion.tumblr.com/post/189296038533/amazing-double-dance-by-hao-ruoqi-in-blueand

**_19th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Brooke’s ringing phone made her look up from her iPad as she was trying to get an overview of all her performances until Christmas. She had taken all she could get, earning smiles and hugs all around, as it meant that some of the other’s would get days off. 

Brooke managed to deal with their gratitude, feeling fake as she had said 'yes' to the performances for her own sake, needing something to fill up her time, knowing that a Christmas on her own would be too much to bear. 

Seeing Nina’s name on the caller ID made her smile, it had been ages since they had last talked, life truly getting the best of Brooke. 

“Hey, you.” Brooke leaned back on her couch, letting herself relax for just a moment. 

_“Hi, sweetie.”_ The warm voice of Nina instantly made Brooke feel comfortable, the power of Nina West, truly. 

“How have you been?” Brooke closed her eyes, ready to hear about the fast-paced life of an actress, knowing it was probably not that different from her own. Long hours and longer time spent waiting for the chance to perform.

 _“Oh, you know. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Spent a week on set in Chicago, did some late night shows, and then I saw Vanjie perform the other night.”_ The smile instantly fell from her lips as Brooke felt her blood run cold at Nina’s pointed tone. 

“Oh.” The word hung in the air as Brooke tried to figure out a way to get out of this particular conversation, knowing that it was futile against her gossip loving friend. 

_“Yeah, oh. Any particular reason why you haven’t told me that the two of you were playing house for a week?”_ Nina saccharine sweet voice did nothing to calm down Brooke’s nerve. She knew how Nina worked. The sweeter she sounded, the angrier she was. 

Kill them with kindness, and all that. 

“Uhm… no?” The sigh at the other end made Brooke continue, hoping that she could stop the rant before it truly began.“It ended up being unimportant anyway, so I didn’t want you to get your hopes up…” Also, telling Nina would make it too real. 

_“My hopes up? What are you talking about?”_ The confused tone at the other end of the line made Brooke groan. 

This was not a conversation she was up for today. 

“It’s just… You always wanted us to get back together and I didn’t want to give you any hope. That’s all.” The moment the words left her lips, she knew that they had been the wrong ones. 

_“Brooke,”_ Nina let her name hang in the air for a moment, making Brooke swallow against the lump in her throat, _“don’t you ever decide not to tell me something about your life just to spare my feelings. That is not how friendships are designed. I’m your best friend, and I care!”_ For a moment they were both quiet as Brooke played with a loose thread on her shirt. 

“I know.” She felt like a child getting told off by her mother. 

_“Good.”_ She could almost hear Nina pushing down her own annoyance, forcing back the calm and soothing voice that she was known for. _“So, the ring?”_

Of course, she had told Nina about the ring. 

_Of. Course._

“I got angry. She pushed me and I showed it to her. It was stupid and I wish I hadn’t.” That ring meant something to Brooke, meant a great deal, actually. And for her to have just thrown in at Vanessa like it was a toy, rather than a promise of forever, had been incredibly stupid. 

_“Okay, you guys talked since she left?”_ Nina’s question made Brooke’s head fill up with Vanessa standing in the parking lot. Looking tired as she sent Brooke away. 

The words evaporated long before Brooke was able to voice them to Nina. 

_It still hurt._

_“Brooke?”_ Nina’s voice was so soft, so calm, while Brooke tried to blink away the images, hoping that she could find her voice somewhere within the memory of her failures. “What happened?” 

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, hating herself for getting so emotional, she took a deep breath. 

“I went to Chicago to talk to her, Steve helped me with a plane ticket and everything. It was all very spur of the moment.” She couldn’t help but marvel at the steadiness of her own voice, despite the tears that pricked at her eyes. 

_“Oh. My. God.”_ The squeal that Nina let out, was probably only hearable to the dogs nearby. Brooke’s mouth twisted into a sad smile, wishing that she could share Nina’s excitement _“All 'Love Actually' like! I bet Vanjie loved that,”_ she laughed loudly, clearly envisioning Vanessa’s over the top reaction to such a stunt. 

_If only that had been the actual case._

“She turned me away, _”_ Brooke forced the words out, needing Nina to come down from cloud seven before she was too far gone. 

Brooke looked down at her hand that was still twisting and turning that same loose the thread, needing something to distract her from the disappointment that was still lingering in her stomach. 

_“What?”_

“She turned me away,” Brooke repeated it a little louder. 

_“No way.”_ Nina waited for a beat, clearly thinking that Brooke would explain it further, though her continued silence made Nina go on. “ _You’re telling me that Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, lover of all things even remotely romantic, turned you away after you showed up to get her back.”_

“Yup.” She wanted to say more but knew that she would start crying if she kept ongoing. 

Thankfully, Nina was better at reading her than most and picked up on it instantly. 

_“Oh, honey.”_

“Don’t.” Taking in a deep breath she forced a smile on to her lips and cheer in her voice. “Let’s not talk more about my stupid love life, or lack thereof, and instead focus on yours. How’s Monét?”

* * *

**_25th of May 2014, New York, NY_ **

_When Vanessa had first aired the idea, Brooke thought it was a joke. The idea that the two of them should perform together seemed almost implausible. It wasn’t that Brooke didn’t have any trust in her girlfriend’s dance skills, quite the contrary, she felt that her own skills would pale in comparison to those of Vanessa’s._

_This wasn’t ballet. This was something completely different. A mix of modern jazz ballet, gymnastics, and acting. It was raw and feral, emotional and truly something new._

_Vanessa wanted to perform it for her choreography exam, and given that she was allowed to bring in whoever she wanted, she had chosen Brooke._

_It had taken a bit of pleading, a lot of convincing, and one very memorable Sunday afternoon spent in bed before Brooke agreed._

_But then she had also given it her all, forcing Vanessa to go over the choreography with her again and again. She wanted to be perfect, wanted Vanessa to not regret having asked Brooke to help her._

_She needed it all to be perfect._

_Which was why she was standing backstage trying to calm her mind. Brooke was dressed in a grey leotard covered in a see-through material that flowed into a half-skirt that would create movement on stage without being restricting. Vanessa was dressed in the same type of costume, the only difference being that hers was bright red._

_Brooke had insisted on it, stating that the focus needed to be on Vanessa throughout the whole performance, even if Brooke was a part of it._

_This was Vanessa’s show._

_“Mateo, two minutes!” The stage manager's voice reached Brooke, her eyes finding Vanessa’s amid all of the backstage chaos that always ensued whenever the school had their big exam show._

_“We got this!” That was all Vanessa said as she tightly grasped Brooke’s hand. Her eyes were steady, her hand soft, and for once in all of Brooke’s dancing career - she felt completely calm._

_She was right._

_As the previous performance ended and they were ushered out onto the floor, Brooke took one deep breath, knowing that they would be brilliant._

_Because of course, they would._

_Standing in the middle of the floor, she settled herself, feeling the character cover her like a second skin, as she looked up at Vanessa, feeling a smirk settle over her lips at the frightened look in her eyes._

_The music began with its harsh beat as Vanessa tried to push Brooke away, falling onto the floor, while Brooke calmly walked closer, dropping down to her knees, dragging her hands over Vanessa’s body, softly letting her hands linger a moment on her neck and face, feeling like a predator that had just caught its prey._

_The beat kept on going, now joined by a haunting female voice, perfectly setting the mood, as Vanessa once again pushed her away, trying to escape._

_Brooke almost laughed out loud, knowing that she had Vanessa just where she wanted her, almost as if they were tied to each other by an invisible ribbon._

_A series of intricate movements ended with Vanessa bending over Brooke, her hand stretched out to the audience, while Brooke glided on her knees, slithering like a snake._

_She knew that Vanessa couldn’t escape, knew that a mere pull on the invisible thread between them would result in her being back in her arms again._

_But where was the fun in that?_

_As they twirled and turned their way back to the centre of the stage, the music stopped for a beat, Vanessa leaning backwards while Brooke smirked out at the audience, right before the voice returned and they danced in sync._

_Even here it was clear who had the control, Brooke’s movements more flowing and rich, Vanessa’s choppy and scared. The audience’s excited cheer didn’t register with Brooke, all her focus was on Vanessa, who was gliding, trying so hard to escape Brooke’s hold, even though she knew that it was futile, while Brooke was calmly looking up at her from the floor, amused at her antics._

_Crawling up slowly from the floor, she performed a jumping sequence with Vanessa, the analytic part of brain noting that this was the first time they had done this perfectly in sync, as she ended up in front of Vanessa, her arm tracing her form, showing to everyone watching that she was the one in control, holding all the strings._

_Yet, the moment she took a step away from Vanessa, every bit of power left her._

_The fear instantly taking over her body._

_She tried to keep the smirk on her face as she twirled around Vanessa, noticing the dangerous glint in those brown eyes when their eyes met, while Vanessa was pushing Brooke down with her leg._

_She knew._

_Brooke could feel the energy seep out of her body as she lifted Vanessa into the air, feeling like her movements weren’t her own anymore, realising that she had become the puppet, while Vanessa was looking at her like Brooke was a toy to play with._

_Fuck._

_As they flowed and moved together, Brooke could tell that she was fucked, Vanessa’s scared smile had transformed into a hungry smirk that didn’t bode well for her, and as they twirled, Brooke fell on the floor, while Vanessa kept on standing._

_The beat seemed to take over every part of Brooke’s body, controlling her every move, while Brooke felt the fear creeping in, her shoulders hunching, her fluidity exchanged for choppiness._

_Vanessa leaned down over Brooke, her hands running all over her, forcing Brooke to lift herself from the floor, reaching it out, wanting to touch Vanessa, hoping that she would spare her._

_Except Vanessa pushed her away, walking two steps back, before a genuine smile appeared on her lips, instantly making Brooke run towards, feeling like there might be a chance._

_Only to find herself almost flat on the floor as Vanessa stepped away._

_Yet, her body took over, while her eyes were trying to find a way out, a route of escape, following along with Vanessa, their movements in sync as they jumped and turned._

_Until Vanessa stopped and Brooke knew this was the end._

_The sardonic grin on Vanessa’s lips as she turned Brooke around, her back facing the audience, sent a shiver down her spine._

_The haunting voice stopped abruptly, but the beat continued as a hand ran down Brooke’s back, Vanessa slowly and carefully ripping out Brooke’s heart, letting her fall down onto the floor like a broken string._

_Brooke curled in on herself, the rapid progression of the beat in time with the convulsions of her body until everything stopped. Brooke kept her eyes wide open for a second before she felt all her control over her own limbs seep out of her body as she finally closed her eyes - perfectly in time with the lights dropping, leaving the stage completely black._

_It only took a second before the thunderous applause sounded, Brooke’s heart beating faster than she thought possible._

_Getting up from the floor, she caught Vanessa’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze._

_They’d done it._

* * *

**_19th of December, Seattle, WA_ **

All the travel and emotional bullshit had finally caught up with Vanjie as she lay in bed in the room she once again shared with Plastique. Everybody else had gone shopping, all of them wanting to enjoy their day off before the show tomorrow, but Vanjie had declined. 

Her head was too filled with thoughts and pains, her body sore and her mind raw. Instead, she had scrolled through Instagram, checking up on Facebook and texted Silky. 

All in all, a perfect way to let herself get a break from her shitty ass life and shittier decisions. 

She was just about to take a nap when the door burst open, Plastique running into the room with countless shopping bags, followed by Daniel, Ra'jah, and Shea. They all looked at Vanjie with wide-eyed glee.

Instantly making Vanjie very suspicious. 

“Why is y’all looking like you’re cats and I’m the cream?” 

“Sis, is this you?” Plastique held out her phone, her insta-filter manga doe eyes so good at pleading that Vanjie would have done whatever she asked of her at that moment. 

“Is what me?” She knew that sounded grumpy, but the prospect of a nap had already covered her body like a blanket, and it was difficult to shake off. 

“Vanjie. The video. Is that you?” Shea looked at her impatiently as Vanjie pressed play, the video completely black.

_Until it wasn’t._

Vanjie wanted to stop the video, wanted to throw the phone down or look away, as that steady and haunting beat began. 

_But she couldn’t._

Looking at her and Brooke dancing and twirling. Their bodies in perfect symbiosis, she felt her heart beat faster, her throat dry and palms sweaty. 

“Where the fuck did you find this?” Vanjie couldn’t look away from the phone, their dancing taking her back to that day, to those emotions. 

She remembered it like it was yesterday. She had never been as proud of a performance as she had been of them on that summer day. 

_Fuck, she probably never would again._

“I told y’all it was her!” Ra’jah sounded victorious, but Vanjie didn’t give a damn, pausing the video with a trembling hand, she looked up at all of them. 

Plastique looked in awe, while Shea and Ra'jah seemed to be having a stare off - probably trying to decide who’d have a bet or something, and Daniel? 

His eyes were shifting back and forth between Vanjies face and her trembling fingers, his smile knowing.

_Vanjie wanted to punch him._

“Where?” She somehow managed to keep her voice low and calm, even though she wanted to yell it, shaking all of them until they told her how they’d found a good quality video of that when Vanjie didn’t have one herself. 

“Twitter.” Daniel shrugged, his eyes still tracing every single movement Vanjie made.

_Analysing little know better bitch._

“What?” Vanjie could help but be completely taken aback. It made no sense. Why would the video be on stupid ass twitter now? 

“Yeah, you gone viral, bitch,” Ra'jah cackled loudly, bumping her shoulder with Shea. 

“You saying that me and Brooke went viral fucking four years after that performance.” Vanjie looked back down at the video, pressing play again before she could stop herself. 

“Holy shit, that’s Brooke? I was looking at you the whole goddamn time.” Plastique sat down beside her on the bed, her head leaning against her shoulder as she watched the video with Vanjie. 

“Wait, The Brooke?” Vanjie almost wanted to slap Daniel. There was no other way that Shea knew about Brooke being her ex than Daniel having tattled. 

Yet, she couldn’t look away from Brooke twirling on the screen. 

Couldn’t look away from how perfect in sync they were. 

_How absolutely right they had looked._

“Yeah, that her.” 

* * *

**_25th of May 2014, New York, NY_ **

_They had managed to keep quiet, to be perfectly calm and professional as they walked off stage. Even as they passed some of Vanjie’s classmates that looked at them with awe they kept their cool._

_Vanjie could feel the energy and excitement vibrating just under her skin, making her want to jump up, kiss Brooke senseless, and run a marathon, all at the same time._

_But she kept her cool._

_Helped tremendously by the soft and steady presence of Brooke right next to her. She hadn’t said a word as they walked off stage._

_The moment they walked into the dressing room, the whole mood shifted as Brooke finally let a big and beautiful smile cross her lips._

_“Holy. Shit.” Brooke almost fell down onto the bench in the middle of the room, laughing softly to herself._

_“You telling me that, Mami!” Vanjie walked over to and dropped onto Brooke’s lap, feeling the exhaustion mix with all of the leftover energy._

_Brooke’s hands reached out to steady her, those big and expressive eyes shining with love and pride bigger than anything Vanjie had ever witnessed in her life._

_And it was all for her._

_“I am so proud of you.” Brooke’s words sent a shiver down Vanjie’s spine, the directness and honesty laced into ever syllable almost making her want to cry._

_“We did that together, if you proud of me you best be proud of yourself, twinkle toes!” Brooke had been there at rehearsal too, had spent hours and hours going over Vanjie’s choreography until it was perfect._

_Vanjie knew that Brooke had been reluctant to help her because she didn’t want to be the reason that Vanjie failed._

_Thinking over their performance just now, she was pretty sure that it wouldn’t have been half as perfect if Brooke hadn’t been involved._

_“No, baby. You did that.” And with those words, she leaned in and captured Vanjie’s lips in a searing kiss that made her toes curl and pulse race. Every glide of their lips felt like a line from a song that only they knew._

_So much love, so much happiness, and so much fucking pride, that Vanjie felt she was going to burst._

_Slowly breaking the kiss, coming back for one, two, three more pecks, because she couldn’t help herself, Vanjie finally leaned back, looking into those clear eyes, her heart growing ten times bigger at the love she found there._

_“I love you. So much.”_

_And she knew at that moment that she would love Brooke until the day she died._

_She had no other choice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it, and see you tomorrow! <3


	20. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am just being stupid.” Brooke’s eyes drifted over the chair in the corner where her phone was, somehow hoping that if she looked it at hard enough, it would make the text disappear.
> 
> “Stupid? Oh. So this is about the infamous Miss Vanjie,” Katya tutted loudly at her, before she took another drag, letting her words linger in the air for a moment. “Thinking with your pussy, very in vogue now, isn’t it?” Brooke couldn’t help but laugh, the shock at her words giving her no other choice. 

**_20th of December 2019, Seattle WA_ **

Vanjie was rewatching the video of her and Brooke dancing again, the novelty of it still not having worn off. Her eyes were glued to the screen, the music clear in her ears, even though she had muted the video. 

“So what are you going to do?” Daniel touched her shoulder slightly, leaning closer to look over at the video as they were both sitting in the audience, waiting for the scene technicians to finish with setting everything up, so they could rehearse. 

“Nothing.” Vanjie shrugged, knowing that there truly was nothing to do. 

“Nothing?” Daniel’s questioning tone made Vanjie turn to look at him, pausing the video on her phone. 

“You heard me. I don’t think she gon’ like me reachin’ out after I sent her Mary Poppin’ off.” Brooke’s fallen expression as Vanjie had sent her away still haunted her. The way the hope had completely vanished. 

_Ain’t no thing ever gonna fix that._

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” The small, all-knowing smirk on his stupid perfect Ken Doll face made Vanjie want to punch him. 

“Don’t you smirk at me, mister Daniel. You don’t know a single bit about my life.” Vanjie was getting real tired of people being all-knowing about every aspect of her relationship with Brooke - past and present.

“You sure about that?” The pointed look reminded Vanjie of all the times that Daniel had been there to see her being messy. 

“You don’t know a single bit of my life before I went to LA.” None of them did. LA Vanjie and New York Vanjie were separate people, living different lives.

While lusting for the same blonde bitch. 

“You talk when you’re drunk, you know that?” The triumphant smile coupled with his teasing eyes instantly formed a knot in Vanjie’s stomach. 

_Fuck._

“Don’t go there, bitch.” Vanjie swallowed down the panic, knowing that she got ranty when the tequila hit just right. 

“You once spent an hour talking about Brooke’s eyes, calling them _bluer than blue and shit, Dan… That’s some serious blue we talkin’ bout._ ” He did a bad impression of her voice, the gruffiness of it making Vanjie smile despite her anger. 

“Shut up.” She forced herself to sound annoyed, barely managing to keep the laughter down. 

_“Listen, Dan, she a tall tree, but, biiiitch, is she worth the climb.”_ His voice rose, making one or two of the technicians turn to look at them, shaking their heads. 

Vanjie hit Daniel’s shoulder, not able to keep the laughter at bay. 

“I did not say that.” Though, if she was truly honest with herself it did sound like something, she would say after the tenth shot.

“ _I won’t ever love anybody like her. She the one, you know.”_ He didn’t do any impression this time, the laughter stopping as he looked at her with a kind smile. “Never said that either?” 

Vanjie felt her own smile fade away, his words hitting her with the speed of a train, leaving her almost breathless. 

_She had 100% said those words. Because they were the truth._

“Vanjie. Text her. If nothing else, then just to wish her a Merry Christmas.”

* * *

**_13th of December 2012, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie couldn’t take her eyes off Brooke. It was, frankly, getting a bit stupid - the way she would walk into people, corners, chairs, and - one memorable and humiliating time - a door, just to get one last glimpse of the Amazonian ballerina that for some reason had decided to befriend Vanjie._

_Even now, walking next to her in the hallway, she felt her eyes travel from the people in front of her to Brooke._

_Brooke was so cool and collected. Always proper and walking like she was being judged on how straight her back was. It was astounding and somewhat frightening._

_Vanjie truly understood why every one of the ballerina bitches glanced at Brooke with a mixture of awe, murder, and pure jealousy. She would’ve probably done the same if Brooke was her competition._

_Except she wasn’t, she was just the girl that she was crushing on harder than even on Veronica from back home._

_And she had written shitty haikus about that bitch._

_No, this was different._

_She wanted to dance for Brooke. Wanted to dedicate whole choreographies to her beautiful smile and kind eyes. Wanted to wow Brooke with her own skills, to make her gasp in surprise and joy._

_Ain’t no “two plus two, I love you” rhyming for Brooke Lynn Hytes._

_That bitch deserved way more and way better than that._

_Brooke’s hand suddenly shot out and stopped Vanjie, before she walked a step further, turning her to look her in the eye._

_Brooke’s eyes were like the ocean, and Vanjie could feel herself getting drawn into them, willingly preparing herself to drown in their calming blue light._

_But before Vanjie had a chance to truly grasp what was happening, Brooke leaned down and placed a soft and quick kiss._

_Everything inside of Vanjie stopped for a moment, her mind blanking while her heart forgot that it had to beat._

_The softness of Brooke’s lips against hers felt more right than that first time she had done a pirouette perfectly._

_As Brooke leaned back, a small one-sided smirk that would’ve made Natalie Dormer cry in inferiority, Vanjie knew that she looked like a stupid fish, with her mouth slightly parted in amazed confusion._

_“What was that for?” Vanjie was almost afraid to speak, fearing that she would ruin whatever the fuck was going on. Brooke chuckled slightly, pointing up to the ceiling._

_Before Vanjie truly registered the mistletoe, Brooke had started to walk away, leaving her staring befuddled at the stupid green bush._

_She looked from it to Brooke’s retreating back and up again, squinting for a moment, she felt a stupid ass smile forming on her lips._

_“Thanks!” She should have felt stupid as she whispered it to the unassuming mistletoe before she hurried to catch up with Brooke._

_Holy shit, they’d just kissed!_

* * *

**_20th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

> **_Merry Christmas, B - V_ **

The text seemed to haunt Brooke ever since it had arrived. It turned around in her brain, conjuring up 500 different meanings that ranged from “leave me alone” to “marry me”. It made her happy for once, that she wasn’t performing tonight, knowing that her heart wouldn’t be in it. 

That she would be leaving her confusion all over the floor in a way that would’ve made Alyssa scoff at her. 

She wanted to text back, wanted to answer. 

But she couldn’t. Every single time that she picked up her phone, she felt frozen. Her mind stuck on all the unknowables. 

How the fuck was she supposed to answer that? 

_Was she even supposed to answer?_

“Ow!” The prick of the needle against her hip brought Brooke back to the present, where she was getting her costume for “Swan Lake” fitted, standing on a platform in the middle of the messy and cluttered costume department. 

“Oh, mama, I told you to stand still.” The dry voice that came from underneath the layers of tulle was sharp and slightly raspy, hinting at the years of cigarettes and whiskey. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Brooke tried to centre herself and stand unmoving, knowing that Katya expected her to be a statue, while she took in the seam. 

The huff of air that hit her knee, as Katya hummed told Brooke that she was less than impressed. 

> _**Merry Christmas, B - V** _

_What did that mean?_

She tells her to leave in Chicago, and now this? Vanessa’s continuing change of mind gave Brooke a whiplash. 

What would Brooke even text her? And wouldn’t it all just bring her even more pain in the end, when Vanessa would inevitably leave her again? 

“OW!” The needle felt like it had truly pierced her skin. 

“Barbara please, I didn’t even touch.” This time Katya stood up, the skirt swishing loudly as she let it hang in the air. “What’s all of this? You’re usually a pro.” 

Katya walked over to her desk and fished out a pack of cigarettes, opening the window as she lit up one, taking a big drag and sounding zen as she blew it out onto the street. 

“It’s nothing.” Brooke shook her head as she looked over at Katya, once again marvelling at the fact that she was still employed at the ballet. Her disregard of the rules and insistence upon smoking wherever she pleased was admirable in its stupidity. 

_So very Katya._

“Sure, and my name is Trixie Mattel.” Katya shrugged while rolling her eyes, a lock of her blonde hair escaping the messy bun on her head. 

“It is. I am just being stupid.” Brooke’s eyes drifted over the chair in the corner where her phone was, somehow hoping that if she looked it at hard enough, it would make the text disappear.

“Stupid? Oh. So this is about the infamous Miss Vanjie,” Katya tutted loudly at her, before she took another drag, letting her words linger in the air for a moment. “Thinking with your pussy, very in vogue now, isn’t it?” Brooke couldn’t help but laugh, the shock at her words giving her no other choice. 

“How do you know about Vanjie?” Did everyone know that her ex had been in town? 

“You have a certain look to you when it’s about her. Very Hugh Grant at the second wedding, 80% fumbling and 20% sexy. It’s a very distinct aura, Mama.” Brooke blinked, trying to process the words, as Katya stubbed out her cigarette and walked back towards her. 

“What?” 

“You know. All heart eyes with a touch of an undiagnosed ulcer.” Katya got back under the tulle with a shrug, as if those words explained everything, while Brooke almost got a headache from decoding her words. 

“I do not look like that.” Brooke rolled her eyes, trying to remember that she was supposed to stand still as Katya silently got back to work. 

It worked for a bit. 

“And even if I had such a look it doesn’t matter. We’re not together anymore.” Her phone seemed to be mocking her from the chair. Its mere presence reminding her that she still hadn’t figured out what to do. 

_What to say._

“Oh, honey. It ain’t over until the fat lady sings, and I’ve heard that Ginger has gone down with a cold, so you should be safe for a while,” Katya was mumbling through the needles in her mouth, making her words difficult to decipher. 

“It’s over, Zamo,” she said the words, knowing deep down that they were true, despite wishing that they weren’t. 

_A text wouldn’t change that._

A loud huff followed by the sound of needles dropping to the floor was the only warning she got, before Katya was back up from her spot on the floor, her knees cracking loudly, as she straightened them out.

“Heart eyes and an ulcer. All lovey-dovey with a fuck ton of regret. That’s visual you’re giving me right now, Barbara. Your chakra is all over the place and you’re serving ballerina barbie doll gone wrong. I don’t know what is going on with you.” Just as Brooke was about to open her mouth, Katya raised a hand. “And, frankly, I don’t care. But you do not come into my sacred space and huff without owning up to being a lovestruck dumbass, you hear?” Those sharp and all-knowing eyes made Brooke swallow all her protests and simply nod. 

“The key to a swollen vagina is courage, miss Hytes. So you better step your pussy up and do something, instead of sighing away like this is an after school special.” And with that, she went back to work.

Leaving Brooke speechless and more than a little confused. 

Wrinkling her eyebrows, she tried to figure out what the hell Katya had meant, knowing that the Russian seamstress talked in riddles on even the best of days - her eyes sharper than an eagle, while her words tended to make less sense than a toddler's. 

Brooke’s eyes once again drifted to her phone. 

_Fuck, she should probably text Vanessa back._

* * *

**_10th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke had woken at 6 AM, her body ready for the day, already gearing up for her regular morning routine. Yoga, matcha, breakfast, stretching._

_The routine had been in place for years, after having been carefully crafted to maximise her every waking hour, to hopefully let her reach that ultimate goal of becoming a prima ballerina before it was too late._

_Yet, this morning, she didn’t get out of bed._

_Vanessa’s soft snore made Brooke pull her in a bit closer, hold a little tighter. Brooke knew that all of this would disappear soon. Vanessa would go on with her tour, while she would stay there, in New York._

_All alone with her perfect routine and a dream job._

_That was how this story would end._

_There would be no sequel to their failed love story, no take two of a ruined run through._

_This wasn’t a film, nor was it dance practice._

_This was real life, and there every second counted and nothing simply disappeared. Brooke was still a workaholic with an icy exterior, and Vanessa was still a free bird with a warm presence._

_They weren’t meant to be._

_But just for a moment. There, in the safety of the dark morning hours, Brooke could pretend that they were._

_She could pretend that this, too, was a part of her perfect morning routine._

_Taking a moment to hold Vanessa close before her day began._


	21. Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bitch, why is your life a fucking Wham! Song?” Silky almost fell back on her chair as she said it, the internet connection lagging, showing her movements in slow cuts. 
> 
> “What the fuck you on about?” Vanjie could feel a headache coming on as A’keria suddenly joined in on the laughter, both of them clearly getting the joke, while Vanjie sat back like a motherfucking question mark. 
> 
> All clueless and blank. 
> 
> “Jesus, Silky, you right.” A’keria’s tried to stop her laughter, as she noticed the way that Vanjie was glaring at her own screen.

**_21st of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

It was actually her day off. 

She didn’t have many of those, and when she finally had one, she usually ended up going downtown to the studio anyway. There was always more rehearsing to be done, more studying, more grinding. 

There was never a single moment of her career where Brooke felt that she could take it easy, rest a bit and let herself just be. 

_Except for today._

She had woken up at 6 AM, started her daily routine, only to find herself stuck on the couch with her breakfast. The idea of going to rehearse a variation that she knew in her sleep - sometimes even dreaming about it - seemed like a waste of time. 

So instead she had opted to take it easy. 

Drinking an extra cup of matcha as she sat on her window sill looking over the ever-busy streets of New York, for once happy that she didn’t need to go down there and meddle with them. 

It all felt a bit like cheating, alarm bells going off in her mind - a constant reminder of all the things Brooke felt she should be doing in that very moment. 

Her inner calendar reminding her again and again that “looking out the window” definitely wasn’t on the schedule for today.

But she _needed_ it to be. 

Vanessa’s text still remained unanswered on her phone. Brooke still felt too raw, too emotional - and if she was honest - too hurt by the rejection. 

Instead, she had left her phone on her bedside table, turning it off.

She needed a breather, needed to settle. 

Alyssa and Katya’s words all bouncing around in her head, trying to tell her something, but never really hitting a home run. 

Brooke knew that there was a point behind their monologues. 

_It was just hidden for her right now._

Brooke glanced up at the clock in the kitchen that was visible from where she was sitting, noting that it was already 9 AM. 

Taking a deep breath, she jumped down from the window sill, stretching her body, the cracks of her bones leaving her with a languid and soft feeling. 

Walking into the bedroom, she noticed the way her phone kept on lighting up, vibrating harshly on the wooden table. 

> **_Should I be worried that I am at the studio before you? - Violet_ **

Brooke couldn’t help but laugh out loud, realising with an amused type of dread that this was the first time in a year that Violet had beat her there. 

_Fucking hell._

* * *

**_7th of July 2014, Los Angeles, CA_ **

_Brooke felt her nerves covering her like a second skin, fully hitting her, as they walked through LAX on their way to pick up the luggage._

_Vanessa was relaxed, humming to herself as she was drinking her bottled water, looking right at home, while Brooke felt the dry heat, even though she was inside in the crisp and cool airconditioned arrivals hall._

_“Stop your worrying, Mami. Silky ain’t nothing but a hoot and half and a whole, ya know?” Vanessa took her hand in hers, swinging them back and forth - clearly trying to make Brooke calm down._

_Only slightly succeeding._

_“She’s your best friend, though.” And Brooke had heard so many things about her, knew that she meant the world to Vanessa._

_If Silky didn’t like Brooke, she knew that she would have trouble staying with Vanessa._

_A harsh, but real truth._

_“Sure? But she just a cookie crunching hoe, that can eat her own weight in twinkies, ain’t nothing scary about her.” Vanessa glanced up at Brooke, probably seeing the way that she was slowly losing her mind, and rolled her eyes._

_“Alright, Mami. I know that look. Go on, you gots question, shoot.” Brooke almost wanted to cry in relief, thankful that her girlfriend understood that she needed to prepare._

_“Okay, so where did she go to school?”_

_“What? Brooke, that ain’t important.” Brooke simply stopped walking, their clasped hands almost causing Vanessa to slip as she turned to look at her._

_Seeing that Brooke was 100% serious, Vanessa sighed, shaking her head softly._

_“Aight, Jesus. We went to the same school downtown. It was how we met each other. I was a mouthy lil shit, and Silky was a loud ass troublemaker. We shared a P &B sandwich on time at lunch and the rest was history, ya know?” Vanessa shrugged, as they finally reached the baggage claim for their New York flight. _

_The light in her eyes and an adorable smile on her lips made Brooke continue._

_“What’s her favourite movie?” Brooke mentally ran through her check-list, going over all the info she didn’t have on Silky._

_“Biitch, fuck if I know. She a hoe for any type man with no top on. Prob Magic Mike or somethin’, she easy like that.” Vanessa took her phone up from her pocket, clearly already over this conversation._

_Brooke wasn’t._

_“Uh-uh, and what does she work with?”_

_“Silky all clever, I can’t pronounce it, Mami. But it’s some fancy-schmancy University stuff that will end in her being a doctor,” Vanjie guffawed loudly. “Dr Silky Ganache - Imagine that.” Brooke gulped._

_She knew that she was good at dancing. But studying? Reading and comprehending? Being good at life at university?_

_Nope._

_Would she even have anything in common with Silky?_

_“What about allergies.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew that she sounded less than sane._

_“Brooke. Baby? I love you, but you’re being more than your regular type of crazy, ‘kay?” Vanessa looked up from her phone, giving Brooke a sweet, but wide-eyed look._

_Probably wondering why she was with a crazy person._

_“Silky ain’t gon’ care about you knowing any of this. Trust and believe, Mami. She’ll see that you make me happy and it’ll be enough.” Raising her head slightly, it was clear that Vanessa was asking for a kiss._

_Brooke gladly delivered and leaned down to give her a light peck. Smiling at the feel of her soft chapstick covered lips._

_“You sure?” Brooke whispered it against her lips, feeling the nervous energy vibrate all over her body._

_She just wanted to make a good impression._

_No. She needed to make one._

_“I love you, baby. Ain’t nothing big ol’ Silk can do about that.” And with that, Vanjie kissed her one more time, Brooke feeling a tiny ounce lighter at her words._

* * *

**_21st of December 2019, Vancouver, BC_ **

Vanjie hated every decision that had led her to this moment, sitting in some random toilet at the venue on a three-way FaceTime call with her idiotic friends. 

She had her AirPods in, her ears almost ringing with the chuckles and shade that her girls had been piling on top of her for the last ten minutes, and going by their stupid ass smiles, they weren’ about to let up on it. 

_“Bitch, why is your life a fucking Wham! Song?”_ Silky almost fell back on her chair as she said it, the internet connection lagging, showing her movements in slow cuts. 

“What the fuck you on about?” Vanjie could feel a headache coming on as A’keria suddenly joined in on the laughter, both of them clearly getting the joke, while Vanjie sat back like a motherfucking question mark. 

All clueless and blank. 

_“Jesus, Silky, you right.”_ A’keria’s tried to stop her laughter, as she noticed the way that Vanjie was glaring at her own screen, hating that she didn’t get where they were going with this. 

What did George Michael have to do with anything?

“Fucking what?” She said it so loudly that the words echoed off the walls inside the toilet, making all three of them quiet for a single moment, the loudness having shocked them into silence. 

_“It’s all ‘last Christmas she gave you her heart and the very next day you gave-”_ Silky was singing, her shoulders shimmying, while her brows were waggling. 

Vanjie hated her friends. 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

_“Vanj. Baby. I love you, but if you let this blonde slip out through your fingers one more time, I’m gonna do like Mama Mateo and slap some sense into you.”_ Trust Kiki to go full-blown mama on her ass. 

_Why did she call them again?_

“She didn’t answer my text.,” Vanjie had tried not to obsessively check her phone again and again. Had tried very hard to just let Brooke decide on her own.

But the bitch had left her on read, and Vanjie was not used to getting that treatment - especially not from Brooke. 

_“You know I love my man Daniel, but this is some foul ass advice he been given you,”_ Silky huffed, shaking her head, while Kiki just gave Vanjie the stink eye.

 _“She went Julia Roberts on your ass and you sent her away, and then your dumbass think she gon’ answer a text? What planet you on, hon?”_ Vanjie could stop herself from pouting, even though she knew that they were right. 

The dream girls weren’t supposed to give love this tough. 

_“Ness, don’t pout, you know we gots your back.”_ Silky was still chuckling slightly, making Vanjie feel like a child, the way that they both seemed to find her so funny. 

“For stabbing, sure. I call you to help me, not to read me like a goddamn newspaper.” Vanjie rolled her eyes, looking away from the screen, as she let her foot scruff against the floor, as she was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. 

Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that she was sporting her signature annoyed pout.

_So what?_

A loud cough made her look back down at her cracked screen, getting hit with the harsh and mother Kiki look. 

It instantly made Vanjie drop her shoulders, getting herself ready to be scolded by the best guilt trip hoe in the country. 

_“She took a day off to go to Chicago,”_ Kiki counted on her fingers, raising a single finger, as her dry voice filled Vanjie’s ears, _“bought you a fancy-schmancy ring,”_ two raised fingers. 

_“And she saw you shake your booty with RiRi without ever mentioning ballet,”_ Silky piped up, Kiki seamlessly showing off three fingers - almost like they had choreographed it. 

_Bitches probably had._

“And then she let me go.” The words hurt to say, filled Vanjie with a sick feeling. 

_“Vanj, come on-”_ Vanjie didn’t even wait to hear what Silky had to say, continuing, feeling her blood start to boil, getting herself worked up. 

“She let me go. Bitch did it last year, and she did it this year. I heard that everything comes in threes so I might as well already prepare my ass to get dumped again.,” Vanjie swallowed down the hurt, the yelling she wanted to do. Clenching her free hand, hoping that her long manicured nails digging into her skin would help her calm down a bit. 

_“Shut up.”_ A’keria didn’t raise her voice, but she might have as well with the way that both Silky and Vanjie stopped everything. Their eyes wide at doneness that Kiki’s tone held.

 _“Keeeeeks, don’t.”_ Silky whispered the words, her eyes pleading, though Kiki didn’t care, as she shook her head at the screen 

_“No, it’s time, stop coddling her, Silk.”_ At the tiny nod from Silky, she went on. _“Vanj... You left last year. You left this year and then you sent her away in Chicago again.”_ The words hit Vanjie right in her chest.

_Bullseye, ring-ding-ding, K-Fucking-O, Kiki._

“No, I just…” Vanjie could find the words, knowing that Kiki was right, even though she wanted to disagree. Wanted to yell and tell her that she twisting the truth to fit with her stupid agenda. 

Problem was that she wasn’t.

 _“Left… That’s what you did. Ain’t no text ever gon fix that. So if you want your woman back, you best study all those Hallmark movies that you love so much and figure out a gesture so big, it’s gone melt the ice princess right up, cause I’m pretty sure it'll be the last chance you ever gon’ get.”_ Kiki’s eyes were kind, despite her words cutting her with a precision that made Vanjie wonder if the bitch had been a killer in a past life. 

“I know.” She almost couldn’t get the words out, her throat all dry and tight. She felt like she wanted to cry, smash her hand against the mirror or dance for hours. 

Like some bullshit budget Black Swan bitch. 

_“Then what you waitin’ for, hoe? Shoo shoo and make some plans to get your girl back. I am tellin’ you, I won’t be dealing with your moody ass anymore,”_ Silky laughed loudly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. 

Vanjie decided to let her, despite Kiki’s words spinning around in circles, making her dizzy. 

“Fuck you, Silk.,” She knew that there was no power behind her words, but Silky ran with it. 

_“Bitch, you’d be dead in a ditch without me to cover your ass."_ Silky was jumping in her seat, pointing at the screen and making a spectacle, Vanjie cracking a smile despite herself. 

Kiki was just rolling her eyes, her face a clear indication that she was tired of their antics. 

_“You would both be dead without me, you messy hoes. Now, the lil man be calling, so imma catch you all later._ ” And with that, she waved softly at the screen, before hanging up. 

Vanjie leaned back a bit, staring at Silky tiredly. 

_“She really told your ass, huh?”_

* * *

**_17th of June 2019, Los Angeles, CA_ **

_Vanjie was stumbling her way down the road, Silky half steadying, half carrying her ass. Her otherwise perfectly balanced legs were trying out a “Bambi on ice” routine._

_The patron, vodka, and something fruity and pink had made her limbs and tongue looser, as she babbled all the way home._

_“She the Elsa to my Anna, ya’ know?” Vanjie couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice as she stumbled over a crack in the pavement, Silky catching her before she fell face first down onto the hard concrete._

_“Vanj, those bitches ain’t fucking, they sisters. Bad metaphor,” Silky sounded tired, which only helped to deepen Vanjie’s bad case of the Eyore._

_She could feel the tears prickle, while she kept on tripping over the words, they felt too big and Silky being tired instead of listening only served in making her feel a certain type of way_

_“But she made like Elsa and let me go, though.” Vanjie looked up a Silky, her friend gently guiding her down the road, muttering to herself while rolling her eyes._

_“Not what the movie is about, boo, but sure. We’ll go with that then,” Silky tried to sound calm, but Vanjie clocked the annoyance a mile away as her legs gave out, letting her slide down on the sidewalk, looking like a white girl at a bachelorette party._

_All legs, hair and feelings._

_“You’re mad at me.” The idea that Silky - the only person that had always stayed - was angry at her, was too much to bear. ”Don’t hate me, boo.” Vanjie could feel the tears well up, falling in pig drops down her cheeks._

_Probably tasting like vodka, with the number of shots she had done back at the bar._

_“Jesus. Okay. Vanjie. I ain’t angry at your whining ass.” Silky hoisted Vanjie up, trying to keep her steady enough. “We almost there, and then you can sleep, ‘kay?”_

_“Promise… Promise you won’t leave?” Vanjie knew that she was seconds away from sobbing, her feelings all over the place._

_But the idea of losing Silky on top of everything else was too much._

_“I even stayed after your ass picked me last for softball in middle school. ‘Ness. We ride or die, bitch. Ain’t no drunken messiness gon’ change that, ya’ hear!” Silky looked at her with warm eyes, the glare from the street light catching in her glasses, almost blinding Vanjie for a moment._

_“Promise?” She wiped a hand over face, catching snot and tears, her voice low and scared._

_“I promise. Now you up for strutting them feet one-two one-two, so I can get my beauty sleep.” Silky gave her a little push, her eyes looking pointedly down the street._

_Vanjie nodded and started the marathon, the road longer than she had remembered it._

_“I miss her.” The words hurt even through Vanjie’s alcohol-induced haze. She missed Brooke, not because her life didn’t function without her._

_But because it was so much better with her._

_“I know you do. But you ain’t gonna find her at the end of a bottle of Patron.” Silky was speaking too much, in a too sober tone, instantly raising Vanjie’s hackles._

_She might be drunk, but she could pop off day, night, sober or trashed - ain’t no limit on her anger._

_“Bitch.” But as the word left Vanjie’s lips, she felt her bones get limber, her mind more liquid and tired. It had been a long night, and her emotions were all over the place. Silky’s arm over her shoulder was a calming presence._

_Thank god for Silk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homestretch people. 
> 
> Shout out to the best Beta in town: freykitten for always giving me good feedback and correcting my ass.
> 
> Get ready.. Cause it is about to go down - see you all tomorrow. <3


	22. Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She kept on looking up flights to New York. 
> 
> In her mind already figuring out the major apology she would owe her mama for missing out on Christmas. 
> 
> But there was no way. 
> 
> She knew that Kiki and Silk thought she needed to do something big. Needed to wow Brooke like she was Meg Ryan and Vanjie was Tom Hanks. 

**_22nd of September 2019, Vancouver, BC_ **

The hustle and bustle of an airport close to Christmas was an experience that Vanjie wished she didn’t have to deal with. Everybody in a state of Black Friday panic, without the added bonus of a good deal. 

Vanjie hated it, already dreaming about being back in LA, chillin’ on her mother’s couch, and eating all the best Christmas food. Between all that and her was a four-hour flight spent in business class. 

_Thank you, Rihanna._

Except, she kept on looking up flights to New York. 

In her mind already figuring out the major apology she would owe her mama for missing out on Christmas. 

_But there was no way._

She knew that Kiki and Silk thought she needed to do something big. Needed to wow Brooke like she was Meg Ryan and Vanjie was Tom Hanks. 

Maybe they were right, maybe Vanjie needed to step her pussy up and show Brooke that she wanted this just as much as her. That she was willing to go the motherfucking distance for her own private ballerina. 

Yet, the ticket in her hand and the prospect of those good business class seats made her waver. 

She could always do the big ‘getting her back’ number in January, right? 

She was walking around the terminal, lusting after a classic Burberry scarf, knowing that she didn’t have the money for it. She kept on looking, though, needing to distract herself from her own wild ideas. 

_She couldn’t go to New York._

Walking into large - and way more appropriate for her bank account - tax-free shop, she looked over all the candy, wanting to find some chocolate for Silky. 

And that was when she heard it. 

> **_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart_ **   
>  **_But the very next day you gave it away_ **   
>  **_This year, to save me from tears_ **   
>  **_I'll give it to someone special_ **

The music was blaring out of the speakers and Vanjie simply stopped. People bumping into her, mumbling that she was blocking the way.

It didn’t matter.

None of it did. 

_She knew what she had to do now._

* * *

**_26th of March 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie couldn’t stop herself from glancing up at Brooke every four seconds. Something was clearly off and it was making Vanjie feel more than a little uneasy._

_Brooke was normally a pale bitch, all white and icy, like some Scandinavian royalty, but this was getting ridiculous. She looked almost see-through as if she was dead or something._

_Her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to be in a lot of pain, a small wrinkle forming between her brows._

_It normally appeared whenever she had practised too hard, but never for long and never while she was sitting down at lunch._

_“B? You okay?” Vanjie kept her voice down, not wanting any of the ballet vultures catching wind that Alyssa’s protegé was feeling less than super._

_Those shady bitches couldn’t be trusted._

_“Yeah, yeah. Just my stomach. Think I ate something bad for breakfast.” Vanjie couldn’t help but frown at her words. Brooke had the same boring and bland mix of oatmeal and blueberries every single morning, how could that have gone bad?_

_“You sure about that?” Vanjie leaned forward, softly touching Brooke’s hand._

_“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing.” Smiling softly at Vanjie, Brooke clearly tried to clench her worry._

_It didn’t work._

_Especially not when she winced softly, placing a hand on the right side of her stomach._

_“Mami, don’t you think you should take the day off, you ain’t looking too good.” The nickname slipped out, but Vanjie didn’t care. Right now their limbo state of togetherness was way down on the list._

_“I only have a class with Edwards left and…”_

_“There’s no way you miss a ballet class, I know.” Vanjie leaned across the table so she could softly cup Brooke’s cheek, every alarm bell going on inside her head at Brooke’s too warm skin. “Just be careful, yeah? I lo-care about you too much for you to pass out on me, ya hear?” For a moment Vanjie thought about just kissing Brooke._

_The worry inside of her needed some type of reassurance, but at the same time, it seemed unfair to take Brooke by surprise when she looked like she could keel over at any moment._

_“I promise.” She closed her eyes, leaning into Vanjie’s hand, her voice slightly strained against the pain._

* * *

**_22nd of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

The sound of makeup being applied brushes hitting the table, the soft swish of a brush covering skin in powder all filling the room - Brooke and Violet getting ready in silence next to each other. 

Brooke was once again putting on her Sugar Plum Fairy mask, while Violet was getting ready for a night out, having just finished rehearsing for Swan Lake. 

Violet was applying her lipstick, her lips slowly getting painted in their signature red, looking every bit the drop-dead gorgeous Upper East Side bitch that she was never allowed to be at the theatre. 

“So, she texted you?” Violet’s voice couldn’t sound less interested if she tried, her dry tone somewhat subdued, as she focused intently on applying her eyeliner, while Brooke was aggressively putting on powder, a small white cloud almost covering her. 

“She wrote ‘Merry Christmas’, I don’t think that constitutes a real conversation, Vi.” Brooke still hadn’t answered, despite everything. 

It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want to. Everything inside of her ached at the thought of talking to Vanessa again. 

She just didn’t know what to say.

“But she did write to you,” Violet dryly noted as she pulled off her top to change, Brooke wondering when they had become so used to each other that such behaviour was okay.

“Yes. After sending me away. And even if I answered, it wouldn’t change a single thing.” Looking over at Violet getting into the classic little black dress, Brooke chuckled a bit - marvelling at the way Violet went from stoic princess to a hot socialite. 

_It was quite impressive_

“Brooke…” Violet gave Brooke a pointed look as she put on her heels. A look that Brooke decided to ignore, as she looked over her makeup. 

“I’m here, she’s there, and... It’s like she said, I always pick ballet first, so why should she expect anything else?” Brooke tried to keep her voice even, despite the hurt that still lingered inside of her at Vanessa’s words. 

She needed to move on and shake the hurt off her shoulders. It wouldn’t do well to look like a wounded fairy tonight when she was supposed to dance like a queen. 

Silence fell over the room as Brooke reapplied her eyeliner, while Violet put on her finishing touches, fishing out her wedding ring from her purse. 

Brooke swallowed her jealousy, instead opting to focus on tidying up at her bench, while the click-clack of heels signalled Violet’s imminent departure. 

“You’re better than me.” The words made Brooke’s head snap up from her task, Violet stopping at the door, looking over her shoulder, hand on the doorframe, as their eyes met in the mirror.

“What?” Brooke couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice as she turned around in her chair.

“You are.” Violet shrugged slightly, her voice dry and matter of fact. “You can perform more, longer, do pirouette after fucking pirouette without breaking a sweat. It’s disgustingly impressive, truly.” Brooke didn’t know what to with this. 

Violet was never one to give compliments, especially not when it came to Brooke. Their friendly rivalry spanned years and meant that they both held a deep respect for each other and the other’s skill. 

But they _never_ spoke this candidly about the other’s skill. 

“Vi, I-” Before Brooke had a chance to say anything, Violet cut her off, her eyes steely and determined. 

“You are better than me, but B? I’m winning.” The words felt like a slap, Brooke’s mouth slightly open in a quiet gasp. 

Violet looked her over, her eyes scanning her from head to toe in a cool and languid manner that made Brooke feel naked and exposed. 

“I have a life.” Violet leaned against the door frame, everything about her portraying a sense of calm that crashed with the turmoil inside of Brooke. “I have a husband, friends on the outside, an actual life beyond these brick walls and stage lights.” The words were like arrows that pierced her skin with precision.

The pain made Brooke swallow against the lump in her throat, words failing her as Violet continued. 

“Ballet takes everything, demands your all, without ever giving anything in return.” For a second Violet’s eyes turned kind, her lips forming a soft smile. “Sure, you might have picked ballet first,. But is it truly your biggest love?” And with that question, she simply left. 

Brooke was left behind in the chair, Violet’s words ringing in her ears. 

She didn’t know how long she ended up just sitting there, staring at the empty doorway. Her thoughts scattered, as she tried to take in what Violet had said. Her speech mixing together with Alyssa’s words.

_“Honey, these floors won’t ever love you back, they don’t care ‘bout your life or your choices, all they care about are the moves.”_

“Brooke? Ten minutes.” Brooke almost jumped in her chair, looking up into Ivy’s smiling face as she popped her head into the room, looking surprised, as Brooke had yet to put on her shoes.

“Right, thank you.” The revelation that she seemed to be having would have to wait, Brooke had a show to perform. 

* * *

**_26th of March 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke was used to pain, it followed her much the same way that her own shadow did. Her muscles screamed, her toes cracked, and her back ached in a way that spoke of long hours spent at a barre._

_Pain was relative, and given the many years she’d spent worshipping at the altar of ballet, she’d almost become numb to it._

_But this was different. Her right side was burning, aching with a sharp pain that made her want to fall down on her hands and knees._

_Not that she did._

_She kept on following along with the class, biting her lip to keep herself from screaming. Brooke could feel the sweat drops running down the back of her neck, her hands clammy and wet, making her hold on the barre slippery._

_From the distance, she noted that Alyssa kept on looking over at her with a confused look. Her laser eyes running over her form, finding it lacking._

_“Hytes, extend your foot.” Yet, where Brooke would normally correct the mistake instantly, she found herself unable to, the pain in her side spreading, her body feeling like it was on fire._

_“Hytes, back straight.” She tried, but the moment her hunched shoulders straightened, her insides cramped up, the pain blinding her for a moment, as she tried to control her breathing._

_The class would be over in ten minutes._

_She could handle that._

_“Hytes, control the movement.” But as she tried to listen to Alyssa’s words, which seemed to come from far away, she felt her body let go. Her feet slipping from right under her, as the pain took over, a groan escaping her lips as she hit the floor._

_“Brooke?!” She noticed detachedly how Alyssa ran towards her, her eyes falling close as darkness covered her in a comfortable blanket freeing her from the hellish pain that was taking over her body._

_“Someone get the doctor.” The words seemed unreal as Brooke felt herself go under, one last thought ringing through her mind before it all went pleasantly black._

_Vanessa was going to be so angry with her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Dane for helping me describe stuff and all the thanks in the world to Freykitten. 
> 
> Just. You guys aren't ready for tomorrow.


	23. Stockings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A knock at the door made Brooke frown, glancing over at the clock in the kitchen, seeing that it was way past 10 PM. 
> 
> What the hell? 
> 
> Thinking that it must have been a mistake, she took a generous sip from her glass, almost choking on the wine as a knock once more rang through the apartment. 
> 
> Louder and more insistent this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a scene with an ambulance ride that might make you a bit anxious, but it all ends well. Just wanted to give a head's up.

**_23rd of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

It was a tradition down at the NYC Ballet to leave gifts for a dancer whenever they had an extra important performance - it was usually reserved for premiere nights, first time dancing a particular role, or whenever someone needed a pick me up. 

Apparently, everyone had decided that Brooke needed the latter, as she had been met by a ridiculous looking Christmas Stocking hanging on the door to her dressing room after the end of that evening’s performance. 

Knowing how she had a tendency to ignore everybody, she couldn’t help but feel touched at all the gifts, the stocking almost bursting at the seams. 

It wasn’t until she arrived home and looked them all over, that she noticed the note from Violet and truly realised why she’d received all the gifts.

> **_We wanted to thank you for taking over the slack and letting all of us have some days off for Christmas. You crazy bitch._ **
> 
> **_\- V (and all rest of them, I guess)_ **

Brooke had eagerly agreed to change dates with all the other Primas, grateful for the opportunity to keep herself busy during Christmas since there was no way that she was going to spend it with her parents. 

Taking on as many performances as possible meant that she would be less at home, which resulted in less time spent thinking about the one person she missed the most. 

However, Brooke felt some of the joy at the presents lessen as she realised that her workaholic tendencies were the cause of them being given. 

_That didn’t stop her from opening them, though._

She got comfy on the couch, even pouring herself a rare glass of red, letting herself relax just this once. 

Brooke couldn’t stop herself from chuckling lightly as she opened the gifts. There was everything from hot pink leg warmers to a large assortment of vodka. Several notes with Christmas greetings and a couple of protein bars. 

Though they were all small things, they felt like a warm and massive hug.

A sweet thought that someone had paid her without needing to be prompted. 

Brooke hadn’t said yes to working through all of Christmas to be kind, she’d done it for purely selfish reasons. 

A knock at the door made Brooke frown, glancing over at the clock in the kitchen, seeing that it was way past 10 PM. 

_What the hell?_

Thinking that it must have been a mistake, she took a generous sip from her glass, almost choking on the wine as a knock once more rang through the apartment. 

Louder and more insistent this time. 

Getting up from the couch, she walked over to the door, a tiny bit suspicious, fearing, for a moment, that her mother had suddenly decided to surprise her with a visit. 

Though, she quickly pushed that thought away, knowing it would never happen. 

Opening the door, Brooke was instead met with a sight more surprising than that. 

Covered in small white snowflakes, all clashing perfectly with the black fabric of her trench coat, was Vanessa. 

Her cheeks were flushed because of the cold, her dark hair weighed down by half-melted snow.

_She had never looked more beautiful._

Brooke didn’t know what to do, her mind blank as her eyes finally met Vanessa’s. Her eyes were bright, filled with some emotion that Brooke was too scared to identify. 

Hope blossomed in her heart, making it flutter irregularly. 

“Hi, B.” 

* * *

**_26th of March 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke had woken up in the ambulance, scared shitless as she found herself lying on a gurney with a soft-spoken paramedic fumbling with wires of a mask giving her oxygen, while the siren blared._

_The pain radiating from her right side was so horrible that it almost blinded her, as bile was rising at the back of her throat._

_She felt like she was dying, everything chaos and frightening, as tears fell down in fat drops, panic seizing her in its tight grip._

_Brooke couldn’t understand what was going on, the words spoken by the kind paramedic seeming far away, as they drowned in a sea of sirens and pain, her throat too tight to let any words out except for small whimpers of agony._

_It had been terrifying._

_It had gotten a bit better the moment they arrived at the hospital._

_The absence of the blaring sirens had managed to take down her anxiety a small, but important, notch, her mind finally able to take the words spoken by the nurses and turn them into something that held meaning._

_Appendicitis._

_The word was repeated non-stop, nurses and doctors throwing it around as they ran in and out of her room. Measuring her blood pressure, performing an ultrasound scan, or taking blood samples._

_They poked and prodded her so many times, that Brooke stopped wincing._

_Ít wasn’t that they weren’t nice, all of them kind and smiling. So very careful with their every movement, taking notice of Brooke’s pain levels and administrating morphine through her drip at the slightest whimper._

_The nurses kept on asking about her next of kin, wanting to alert her parents or some other family member of her whereabout, probably wondering why she was all alone. Brooke had never felt more happy about being 18-years-old at that moment, as it meant that they couldn’t just call up her parents without her consent. She didn’t need her mother’s worry or her father’s gruff inability to express emotions right now._

_But that did mean that she was all alone in the big and sterile hospital room. The smell of anti-bacterial wipes and the cold white walls her only companions as she waited for the staff to prep her for surgery._

_Surgery._

_Such a big and scary word._

_Too big to contemplate, as it instantly made a tsunami of questions flood her mind - fears of it affecting her dancing, and a flare of anxiety over the risk of dying during an appendectomy._

_Brooke had seen Grey’s Anatomy, she knew that even the easiest operation could have complications._

_Loud voices from the hallway brought Brooke out of her panic-driven thought spiral. The heart monitor instantly betraying her, as it started beeping slightly faster at the recognition of one of the two voices, the partially opened door to her room making it possible for her to hear the conversation._

_“Miss, I can’t just let you in there, it’s family members only.” The nurse sounded exasperated, a feeling that Brooke could relate to, given the person she was talking to._

_“C’mon, I know you can let me in there, I seen them movies and watched it on TV. You can give my girl a break and let her kiki for a moment.” Vanessa’s voice almost managed to bring tears to Brooke’s eyes, not realising until that very moment how much she needed her._

_How much she needed to look into Vanessa's eyes, knowing how easily she could calm Brooke down from the deepest cliffs of panic._

_“Miss. I can’t.” The nurse's apologetic tone made Brooke want to scream._

_Of course, she could._

_“I’m her girlfriend, you tellin’ me that I can’t go and give her a kiss before she gettin’ cut open? Really, Mary? Really?” Vanessa yelled the words, anger clear in her voice._

_Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend._

_The word echoed inside of Brooke’s head, every other sound disappearing as those two syllables got played on repeat, turning into a beautiful symphony._

_Brooke couldn’t stop the smile that was slowly forming on her lips, even if she wanted to._

_Girlfriend._

_Nothing had ever felt as correct as that word._

_Caught up in her own thoughts, Brooke didn’t hear the nurse’s answer or anything else, too focused on the warm feeling flowing through her body at that one word._

_Until Vanessa suddenly stood in the middle of her room, brightening up its dreariness instantly._

_Her eyes wide, cheeks red and blotchy with tears._

_Brooke wanted to jump up from the bed, wanted to grab Vanessa and twirl her around on the floor, but she couldn’t._

_Instead, she felt the tears immediately start falling, Vanessa’s presence working like a soothing balm against all the fears that had taken over every single cell of her body._

_“‘Ness.” She almost couldn’t get the word out, her throat tight and lips trembling, but it didn’t matter._

_Vanessa understood, almost running up to the head of the bed, gently cradling Brooke’s face with her trembling fingers. For a moment they just looked into each other’s eyes. Both of them crying, Brooke detachedly noting that even with tears all over and snot bubbles, she found Vanessa to be the most beautiful girl in the world._

_Without any words or prompting, they leaned towards each other, their lips meeting in a sweet and soft kiss._

_It wasn’t fireworks, it wasn’t out of this world amazing._

_It was way better than that._

_It was home._

* * *

**_23rd of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Vanjie almost couldn’t handle existing in her own body. Nervous energy running through her veins, making her knees unsteady and her hands shake. 

Making the decision to change her destination to New York hadn’t been hard, but actually getting there had. 

It took way longer than she had expected. All the flights had been fully booked, resulting in Vanjie almost taking up residence at Vancouver airport as she tried to hustle her way onto a flight. 

In the meantime, she had called her mama with a hundred different excuses at the ready, though none of them had been needed the moment she mentioned Brooke. 

_“Go get your girl, Mija. That’s the best Christmas gift you could ever give your mama.”_

Despite all the layovers, a full out screaming match with an overworked flight attendant that she wasn’t proud off, and two breakdowns in shitty airport toilets, it had all been worth it.

Because it had brought her there. 

_To New York._

To Brooke’s apartment, where she was standing in the middle of the room, trying to keep herself from flailing all over the place, while Brooke was looking her up and down, leaning against the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“So…” Brooke’s tone was indecipherable, though there was a glint in her eyes that seemed familiar in a way that made hope blossom inside Vanjie’s chest. 

“So…” Vanjie had spent the whole flight going over a speech, writing and rewriting notes on her phone, trying to figure out the perfect way to say everything, the number one way to make Brooke give her one last chance. 

They all disappeared now, standing in front of Brooke. 

_Fuck._

Brooke chuckled a bit to herself, giving Vanjie a pointed look, making it clear that this was Vanjie’s conversation to have, Brooke probably still angry over Chicago. 

_Which was fair._

The problem was that Vanjie didn’t know what to say, deciding that reading up a note from her phone would be a bad look, but Brooke’s big and blue eyes were making it difficult to think, to figure out a way to put words together that would make sense. 

The smile on Brooke’s lips seemed to grow larger by the second, while Vanjie felt like she was going out of her mind, her palms getting clammy under Brooke’s scrutiny. 

_What was she supposed to do?_

“Ness?” 

“So… It’s not going to be easy, you know. It’s gon’ be real fucking hard. Shit, Brooke, we’re gon’ have to work on this every single day.” Vanjie couldn’t believe that she was doing this, was actually going down this road, but she continued, just happy that the words had finally decided to return to her. 

Even if they were just a fucking quote from her favourite movie. 

“But I want to do that because I want you. All of you, twinkle toes, and long working hours included. Forever. Just you and me, every day.” Vanjie could feel herself getting choked up, could feel all the emotions spilling out of her, the fact that she hadn’t slept for almost 30 hours finally showing its ugly face. 

Brooke still didn’t say anything, though her smile was brighter than a burning sun, almost blinding Vanjie.

“Just… Picture your life for me, B. Thirty years from now, forty years-” Before Vanjie had time to truly comprehend what was happening, Brooke had kissed her. 

Capturing her lips in a way that deserved violins playing in the background, fireworks, and confetti. The soft glide of Brooke’s lips was better than a thousand words, every touch a roaring ‘I love you, I love you, I love you”.

Brooke leaned back, her eyes shining with an emotion that Vanjie knew so well - knew it because it was what she was feeling herself. 

“Okay,” Brooke whispered it softly, puffs of air hitting Vanjie, making her feel warm on the inside, though she couldn’t help but frown slightly. 

_What the fuck did that mean?_

“What do you mean, okay?” Brooke cupped her cheek gingerly, a thumb lightly running over her skin, making her heart double in size at the familiarity of it all. 

“I mean, okay, Vanessa Mateo - I can agree to those terms.” And with that, she leaned down and kissed her once more. 

_She was finally home._

* * *

**_27th of March 2013, New York, NY_ **

_Vanjie felt disgusting. Her clothes smelling of sweat and hospital. She knew that her hair was matted down and all over the place, while her makeup was probably smeared and streaky form all the tears she had cried in the last 24 hours._

_Her back was aching from having slept in a shitty chair that had never been intended for anything but sitting._

_None of it mattered, though._

_All that mattered was the steady beeping of Brooke’s heart monitor, as she slept peacefully in the big hospital bed that somehow managed to make her look small and frail._

_Two words that Vanjie had never thought she would use to describe Brooke._

_Vanjie had been a mess ever since Asia had let it slip that Brooke had passed out in class. She couldn’t describe the adrenaline that coursed through her veins, nor could she explain the fear that had made her heart beat in double tempo._

_All she remembered was that she needed to get to Brooke, needed to see her, needed to hold and…_

_Needed to tell her._

_Everything._

_She didn’t really remember how she had gotten to the hospital. No clue who had helped her or even tried to calm her down._

_All she remembered was yelling at the nurse, snot all over her face, angry that no one would let her see Brooke._

_She remembered calling Brooke her girlfriend, and she remembered the kiss._

_“Ness, if you think any harder, you’re going to pop a vessel.” Brooke’s croaking voice made Vanjie jump up from the chair, having been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t realised that Brooke had woken up._

_“Shit. Fuck. Brooke. What do you need? Water? Ice? Need me to call a nurse? Of course, you do.” Vanjie almost wanted to hit herself, her mouth running a mile a minute, but she could stop herself. “I’ll get you a nurse, just-” a hand shot out and grabbed her._

_“Shh.” Brooke shook her head, forcing Vanjie to sit down and take a moment to breathe._

_Brooke eyes closed for a moment, before she looked back up at Vanjie, her eyes crinkling softly, her face calm and completely free of any pain, a huge burden falling from Vanjie’s shoulders instantly._

_“Hey.” For some reason, Vanjie felt almost shy now - just the two of them in this big white room, with only a heart monitor to fill the silence._

_Brooke wetted her dry lips, a small smile making her look very post-surgery couture._

_“So… girlfriend?” The teasing note in Brooke’s voice made Vanjie smile._

_Trust Brooke to get right down to business, even though she’s just woken up and her head was probably more than a little fuzzy with the good drugs._

_“Got any problem with that?” Vanjie raised a single brow feeling 95% confident that she didn’t and 5% scared shitless that Brooke would._

_“Nope. Just thought it was custom to ask, is all.” The tiny shrug did nothing to hide the joy in Brooke’s eyes, while Vanjie almost sagged in relief, everything inside of her wanting to scream in joy._

_“Like your answer would’ve been anything but yes,”_

_“True.” And with that, Vanjie leaned forward and kissed her._

_Marvelling at the fact that Brooke was - finally - hers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow for the epilogue. 
> 
> HUUUUUGE THANKS TO FREY FOR BEING THE MVP!


	24. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanjie woke to a dark bedroom, for a moment feeling completely disoriented in the familiarity of it all. The smells, the sounds, and the feel of it all reminding her of countless mornings spent in that exact same spot, with the warm feeling of Brooke’s arm across her body. 
> 
> She never thought that she would get this again. 
> 
> Never thought that she would be back in this room.
> 
> Yet, here she was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're done. 
> 
> Just. Holy shit.

**_24th of December 2019, New York, NY_ **

Vanjie woke to a dark bedroom, for a moment feeling completely disoriented in the familiarity of it all. The smells, the sounds, and the feel of it all reminding her of countless mornings spent in that exact same spot, with the warm feeling of Brooke’s arm across her body. 

She never thought that she would get this again. 

Never thought that she would be back in this room.

Yet, here she was. 

Glancing over at the alarm on the bedside table she noted the time, her eyes doing a double-take, sure that it couldn’t be true. 

6:30 AM. 

_What?_

The soft and sighing breaths that left Brooke’s body was a clear indication that she was still sleeping. 

“Brooke? Baby?” Vanjie’s voice was hoarse, not fully awake yet, as she pulled a bit at the arm that was hugging her close. 

“Yeah?” A puff of air hit Vanjie’s neck, sending shivers down her spine. 

Funny how they’d been in this exact position two weeks ago, and yet this felt completely different. 

“It’s 6:30, aren’t you behind schedule?” Vanjie snuggled up closer, wanting to savour Brooke’s warmth, the feel of her naked body against hers for just a little longer, knowing that it would end in a moment. 

“No.” Brooke placed a small kiss on her shoulder, while Vanjie suddenly felt much more awake as the hand on her stomach started to inch its way down. 

“No? Ain’t this green tea, yoga time, boo?” Vanjie couldn’t help but gasp slightly, desire curling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Not today.” Brooke’s lips started to place small kisses down her neck. “Today I have something much more important to do.” The tone made Vanjie push her thighs together, knowing that her morning was about to go from great to amazing. 

“What’s that?”

“You.” 

* * *

**_24th of December 2022, Los Angeles, CA_ **

_Coming back in from outside, her hands filled with the last moment groceries her mom had sent her to get, Vannjie felt amazing._

_Walking around without a jacket on in December was peak LA moment, and made Vanjie feel right at home in a way that New York would never be able to do. The mild climate always managing to remove some of the weight that seemed to pile onto her shoulders as the days grew darker and the temperature got lower._

_Brooke on the other hand always seemed to thrive in the cold, a weird notion for a pure southern girl._

_But there was something about Brooke that lived in the darker days, that gained power from the shivering cold._

_Vanjie couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she glanced over at Brooke who was napping on her mother’s worn and old couch. The loose dress not able to hide her growing belly, a protective hand splayed across it._

_A mama bear even in her sleep._

_Vanjie had always known she loved Brooke, had thought that her heart could never ever be filled with more love than the day they’d looked each other in the eyes and said: “I do”._

_Man, had she been wrong._

_Seeing Brooke’s body change as she grew and nurtured their baby girl had been a life-changing experience that had left Vanjie with more love than she knew what to do with._

_Brooke had been the driving force behind project babe, adamant that their family should expand beyond their cats and dogs the moment Brooke had danced her last performance as a prima. Vanjie was still eternally grateful and proud of how brave Brooke had been._

_The tests and uncertainty that she had been willing to go through to get to this point._

_Vanjie walked over to the couch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the swell of Brooke’s stomach._

_“Be kind to you mommy, Mija.” She kept her voice low, not wanting to wake Brooke from her much needed sleep._

_It hadn’t been an easy pregnancy, not at all. It’d been difficult for Brooke to let go of the strict control she’d had over her body for the last twenty years and pass it over to a teeny tiny invader. The mood swings, cramps, and sleepless nights had haunted her wife, though Brooke insisted that it was all worth it._

_And while Vanjie had felt right at home the moment they’d landed, it had been a completely different story for Brooke, the heat making it difficult for her to find any sense of comfort, despite Vanjie’s mama having tried everything._

_“She takes after her mama, already doing death drops on my kidneys.” Vanjie looked up at Brooke, everything about her glowing, despite the tired smile and purple bags under her eyes._

_Looking over at the grocery bags that Vanjie had abandoned in the middle of the room, Brooke’s eyes turned questioning._

_“Did you remember my twinkies?”_

_Vanjie felt like the luckiest girl in the world._

* * *

**_24th of December 2024, New York, NY_ **

_“Brooke!” The sound of Vanessa’s voice filled the apartment, the urgency in her voice making Brooke run out from the bathroom, eyeliner in hand, as she was getting herself ready while Vanessa was on Lily-duty._

_“What?” As she entered the living room, her mind had already run through ten different and horrifying situations in which their daughter had managed to get hurt while Brooke was putting on makeup._

_“Hurry up!!”_

_The sight that met her, however, instantly made her tear up, involuntarily reaching up with a hand to cover her mouth._

_Standing shakily in the middle of the floor was Lily wearing the cutest and pinkest tutu skirt over one of her bodies._

_Brooke’s heart melted._

_“You like it?” Vanjie smiled proudly._

_There was no break between thought and action as she dropped down to her knees and spread out her arms._

_Lily shyly sucking on her thumb, looking from Vanessa to Brooke, seemingly undecided about where she was supposed to go._

_Brooke wanted to capture this moment in her heart and never let it go._

_“Go on, Lils. go give your mommy a hug.” Vanessa’s voice was soft, as she kneeled down next to Lily, pointed towards Brooke with a shit-eating grin covering her lips._

_Lily slowly walked towards her, Brooke leaning forward to capture her, before her tiny legs gave out, lifting her up as she rose from the floor, her delighted squeals filling the room - the sound so pure that Brooke wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever._

_“Look at you, Lily-bug. Huh? You going to out-twirl your mommy soon, huh?” Brooke placed a soft kiss on the blonde and downy hairs, wishing that she could keep Lily like this for just a little while longer._

_“Merry Christmas, baby.” Vanessa’s eyes were shining, Brooke feeling like she had been given the greatest present in the world._

* * *

**_24th of December 2027, New York, NY_ **

_Brooke couldn’t take her eyes off the stage. The flurry of pink tulle and small perfect buns on the cutest and smallest of ballerinas making her heart soar with a love she never thought was possible._

_Amid all those little girls, was one star that shone just a little bit brighter than the rest. Her blue eyes shining with joy as she jumped and kicked, floating like a butterfly across the stage._

_Brooke had never seen anything as perfect as that._

_Every bit of her perfectionist tendencies and ingrained corrector, as a teacher at Julliard, flew out the window the moment she looked at Lily dancing._

_Vanessa tightened her grip on Brooke’s hand for a moment, instantly making her turn her head to look worriedly at her wife._

_“You okay, honey?” Vanessa let go of Brooke’s hand to softly rub her belly, wincing slightly, though she tried to keep a smile on her face, her eyes still focused on the stage and on Lily, her other hand holding her phone, filming the whole thing, so Anabell could see the whole thing._

_“You got another Prima in here, that’s for sure.” Seeing Vanessa pregnant had multiplied Brooke’s love for her in a way she never thought possible._

_Seeing her create their child such an otherworldly thing, that Brooke found herself willing to pamper and spoil Vanessa at every turn._

_“Here. Let me.,” she whispered the words, taking the phone from her, giving Vanessa the room to rub her belly with both hands._

_The thankful sigh made Brooke warm all over._

_Looking back up at the stage, she almost couldn’t believe that this was her life. All of this._

_She once thought that her best years were behind her. But looking at Lily shining on the stage and Vanessa glowing with the pregnancy shimmer, Brooke found herself looking forward._

_Knowing that last Christmas would never be able to top this Christmas. Or the ones to come._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big big big shout out to everyone who's been reading and liking, commenting and sending me asks and messages. It's warmed my heart more than you could possibly know.
> 
> A big thank you to Dane for being best bro, biggest cheerleader and lovelies person. Thank you for being the best
> 
> And frey...Sweetest loveliest frey who's taken the time and care to read over every single chapter, putting dots instead of commas and calling my ass on all my repetitions. I owe her more than I could possibly every say. Just thank you! 
> 
> And yeah. I am never ever doing this again. 
> 
> But yeah. Look at that. I did a nanowrimo but in december through the use of prompts. 
> 
> Who'd have thought. See you in 2020 for more beauty, bitches! <3


End file.
